Corrupted Legacy
by MikoGoddess
Summary: Sequel to Ferret in my Shoe! So the boys are out of school and Voldy's dead. That doesn't mean life will be easy. What happens now when the most feared dark wizard comes back to haunt them in ways no one would have expected? Rough times, that's what! HPDM
1. Ends and Beginnings

**Disclaimer:** No I don't own Harry Potter. Just the plot, and one of the characters. Love the disclaimer now because this is the only one you're getting.

**Summary:** Sequel to Ferret in My Shoe! I don't want to give much of the plot away, so…Harry and Draco deal with adversity; there's a child; real life gives everyone a good smack in the face, and our poor Harry can't catch a break. :smiles:

**Warnings: **Slash! (I hardly consider that a warning…but I suppose there's some…) Though really, that one was established in the prequel to this. Which, by the way, if you haven't read Ferret in My Shoe…you probably should. This story will probably make much more sense if you have. And considering I have not yet written nor fully planned any of this story…I really don't know any other warnings. I'll let you know as we get there.

And of course, thank you to my wonderful beta, **13thMoonWitch**. Thanks as always! Any odd things you see left in the story, are probably there because I want them to be. (Because I'm pretty sure he doesn't miss anything :)

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**Chapter 1: Ends and Beginnings**

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

To say the students of Hogwarts acted differently the second semester of the year would be an understatement. To say that during that semester Hogwarts had seen the greatest amount of house-unity at the same time it saw the most intra-house discordance would be more accurate.

Somehow, in a very unintended effect, Harry and Draco's publicized relationship brought a different sort of relation between the students. Basically they were narrowed down into two groups: the conservative and the open-minded, creating an interesting reflection of the same muggle conflict. It was upon this new discovery that friends started being made in other houses.

It wasn't much at first: just a Hufflepuff walking with a group of Ravenclaws or some such. Then more and more began to branch out, and if anyone were to visit the Headmistress' office, they would have seen a portrait with twinkling blue eyes smiling in interest at the developments going on around the school.

Harry and Draco watched with the same sort of interest from their spots at the Gryffindor table during breakfast one day.

"If I'd known this was all it took…I'd've seduced you years ago," Draco said suddenly, and Harry sprayed the pumpkin juice he'd been sipping across the table as he was surprised into laughter.

"Eurgh, Harry, gross!" Ron cried, and Harry laughed harder as he looked up and saw Ron's expression, arms held away from him in slight disgust. The freckled boy had been unfortunate enough to be the one sitting across from Harry, and was now covered in Harry's morning drink.

Draco's lips quirked into an amused smile at Ron's disgruntled pout as Harry collapsed against him and buried his face in his shoulder, trying to gain control over his laughter. Without a thought, he wrapped his arm around the boy's waist and pulled him closer.

Finally, Harry calmed enough, and took a deep breath as he straightened up, wiping a tear of mirth from his eye. "Sorry about that, Ron," he said, and waved his hand, effectively drying his friend.

"Yeah, yeah…" Ron grumbled, but the incident was soon forgotten as he went back to his breakfast.

Hermione rolled her eyes at all of them, though a small smile touched her lips as she continued to eat. Everyone else around them had gone back to their own conversations

Harry let out one last chuckle before turning his attention back to breakfast as well. He saw a copy of the Daily Prophet lying beside him on the table, set aside carelessly by another student, and so he pulled it towards him. He was bringing a forkful of eggs to his mouth, but stopped halfway when he read the headline of the top story in the magazine and immediately flipped to the listed page.

**Boy-Who-Lived Out of the Closet and Off the Market?**

Dark eyebrows rose in both amusement and curiosity. It had been a couple months since Harry and Draco got together, and they were just _now_ writing an article about it? Then again, the papers had probably all been so busy covering the defeat of Voldemort that they had given his private life a temporary reprieve. So with a morbidly curious sense of trepidation, Harry began reading the article.

_Ever since that fateful day of Harry Potter's first defeat of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named when he was only a year old, it has been many girls' dreams to capture the eyes and heart of our hero. And of course his latest grand defeat of You-Know-Who has ensured that none will forget his name for years to come. _

_But it would seem Mr. Potter's interests lie elsewhere, to the great disappointment of many fans. In a recent interview with a very reliable source, it was discovered that Harry Potter has come out of the closet, so to speak, and announced his shocking relationship with one very well-known Death Eater's son: Draco Malfoy._

"It's quite amazing, isn't it?"

"What?" Harry looked up in surprise as Hermione's voice reached him from across the table.

"What you and Draco have done for this school. All throughout _Hogwarts: A History_, there are constant mentions of house rivalry and no one has been able to do anything about it! Though I suppose you two haven't really gotten rid of it…more like confused it, I guess."

Ron laughed at Hermione's wording, and the girl blushed. "Oh shush, Ron," she mumbled, ducking her head.

Harry smiled, and shrugged. They hadn't done anything amazing; they'd only given people something different to argue about. His train of thought was suddenly thrown off as he heard a light snort from over his shoulder, and turned to see Draco leaning over him to read the article he'd left lying open on the table.

"I was beginning to wonder when they were going to start writing about us," the blond said conversationally. "Oh, honestly, 'cast a spell that stole our hero from the world?' You know, anyone else and I bet they wouldn't have said I _stole_ you. Any girl and they'd be gushing about how _adorable_ it was that their _hero_ found someone to love."

Harry chuckled, and brought his arm up, patting Draco's opposite cheek before moving his hand down to loosely grasp his neck. He pulled the boy towards him until their heads touched, and Harry grinned. "Careful, love, or you might start to sound contemptuous."

Draco raised an eyebrow and replied, "Careful, love, or you might start to sound smart."

Harry growled playfully, and shoved Draco's shoulder. Draco laughed, and kissed Harry's cheek before returning to his own seat. Harry scanned the rest of the article, but didn't read it fully. It just went on to talk about how the relationship may have come about, and to give quotes that Harry was pretty sure were taken from Nott. He almost laughed at some of the speculations on their relationship, and knew this would feed the rumor mill for a while if they did nothing to correct it.

It was only the next day that Harry was proven correct. It started with one letter in the morning post. It was a very unassuming envelope that was dropped onto the table in front of him, and so he opened it without a thought. His cry of surprise, though, drew the attention of several people around him. As soon as he opened it, Harry could both see and feel the magic as it wrapped around him, and it stung slightly before going away again.

"Harry, the last time I checked, mail doesn't require you yelling at it for it to open," Draco said from beside him, obvious amusement in his voice.

Harry sent him a glare in return and said, "Yeah well the last time _I_ checked, mail doesn't throw magic at me, either."

With a huff, Hermione reached forward, and grabbed the now harmless note from inside the envelope. "You know, recently listening to you two is like listening to a broken record," she mumbled as her eyes scanned the parchment. Then her mood immediately changed, and she muffled a giggle behind her hand.

Confused and curious, Harry reached out and snatched the letter from her hands, bringing it to him as Draco once again leant over his shoulder to read.

'_Harry, darling!_' it read, and Harry snorted as he read on. '_I just _know_ you've been put under some awful curse! I had my father teach me to seal magic into a letter, and so this letter came with a spell that will get rid of any controlling or malicious spells. Once you're free of that evil Death Eater's clutches, please write me back!'_

Harry wasn't even able to read the name of the sender before the letter was taken from his hands. He looked over in surprise as Draco held the paper up between two fingers, and pulled his wand from his pocket. Touching the tip to one corner of the letter, Draco said no words as the parchment suddenly ignited, swallowed immediately by blue and purple flames. Draco smirked in satisfaction as he pocketed his wand again.

Harry raised an eyebrow, and Seamus, who was sitting on the other side of him, leaned forward and asked, "What's going on over here?"

"Attempts on my boyfriend, that's what," Draco said with a frown, and Harry's lips quirked into an amused smile at the possessiveness in Draco's words. "Not to mention amateur spell-casting!"

"Speaking of which, are evil-purging curses supposed to sting?" Harry asked, rubbing his arm absently.

Neville, who was sitting near Ron, looked up in surprise. "It stung you? Purging curses are harmless," he said, having had many such spells cast on him a few times before by his grandmother.

"Lovely," Draco grumbled, casting a glare at the envelope still lying on the table. "Didn't take long for the delusional fans to start causing trouble."

Harry chuckled, and reached for Draco's hand, twining the other boy's fingers with his own. "Welcome to my life, Draco," he said with a large smile, and Draco wasn't sure whether to smile, frown or laugh. So he decided on a noncommittal grunt of both amusement and annoyance. The others sitting around them laughed, and the letter incident was forgotten.

At least it was…until the next letter arrived. That one arrived during Transfiguration. McGonagall, who had kept her post as teacher for the year until she could find a replacement, huffed at the interruption when Hermione immediately grabbed the letter before Harry could and began casting spells to detect anything unusual. This letter had no spells, however. Instead it proceeded to call Harry and Draco things that had them both scowling, and Harry crumpled up the letter, this time taking the satisfaction of burning it for himself.

The week following consisted of a slew of letters for both Harry and Draco, both good and bad, supportive and condemning. Most were read, laughed at, and subsequently burned. The boys had made it a game to see who could create the prettiest fire, or the most colorful, much to the amusement of the other students.

But when another week passed and the letters had _still_ not ceased, even if the stream of them had lessoned considerably, Harry began to grow annoyed. "Draco…" he whined, tugging at his hair with his hands as they lay outside on a Saturday in the budding spring weather, "why won't they stop?"

Draco examined the letter in his hands with a raised eyebrow. It was a bright red envelope, beginning to smoke around the edges. With a careless shrug, he tossed it into the lake, where it finally exploded, and a stream of inaudible words bubbled to the surface of the water. "Because you're famous, Harry. You would think one would be used to the attention by now in your position."

Harry sighed, and shifted so that his head rested on Draco's stomach, closing his eyes as the March sun caressed his face. "Yeah I guess some people would be. I'd just as soon be another nameless face in the crowd."

With a small smile, Draco ran his hands through the dark strands of Harry's hair, eliciting a sigh from the Gryffindor. "You'll never just be a face in the crowd, Harry. I think you would stand out, even if you weren't the boy-who-lived."

Harry turned his head and opened his eyes to peer curiously at Draco. "Why would you think that?" he asked.

Giving another small shrug, Draco pulled his hand from Harry's hair and crossed both arms behind his head as a pillow. "You're a good person, Harry: you love to help people. You're very handsome, and yet seemingly entirely unaware of it which, frankly, only adds to your appeal." Harry's eyebrows rose in amused interest, and the faintest of blushes dusted Draco's cheeks. "And you're a natural leader, and very powerful, both of which are attractive to people as a whole."

Harry's brow furrowed, and he shook his head slightly. "But if I hadn't been the boy-who-lived, that probably wouldn't be me. I'm _not_ a natural leader. I've had to be because people expected it. I want to help people probably because of the way I was raised: no one was ever there to help me. It probably would have been different with my parents."

Draco chuckled, causing Harry to make a sound of annoyance as his pillow moved beneath him. "Harry, deny it all you will, but you are who you are. Circumstances just happened to magnify your greatest qualities."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Now look who's giving the sappy speeches."

The smile never left Draco's face as he answered. "What can I say, you bring out the worst in me."

Harry snorted, and halfheartedly smacked Draco's chest. Draco caught the offending hand in one of his own, and they stayed like that for a while, enjoying the day's unusual warmth before they finally went back inside for dinner.

- - - - - - - - -

Throughout the next month, it seemed people were finally starting to accept that their letters weren't going to change Harry's mind about his choice, and so he received less and less of them now. The teachers were almost as happy as the two boys, since the letters had arrived at all times, and were a constant source of class disturbances.

Harry and Draco were both glad for the reprieve, and as the weather warmed, both could be found outside more, either together or alone. It was one such pleasant day, while Harry opted to stay inside for a random nap, that Draco found himself on a walk across the grounds.

He tucked his hands into his pockets and directed his gaze towards the sky, sighing as a soft breeze caressed his face. There hadn't been many moments like this lately. In fact, there hadn't been many since before the summer, when Harry had found him in the pet shop that day that brought them together. Smiling at the memory, Draco closed his eyes and the image of a bright-eyed boy with messy hair appeared in the darkness. A snort of amusement escaped him as he realized Harry had been right: he really _was _a hopeless romantic.

Before he could think on that any further, though, his musings were abruptly interrupted by a small, high-pitched noise from the ground. He blinked, and looked around, until he heard it again. It came from next to his feet this time: a tiny meow. And sure enough, when he looked down, there was a small, gray kitten with a white chest, white paws, and a large white patch of fur around its left eye.

Raising one brow, Draco looked around for any student, teacher, or any other random person that might have lost a pet, but there was no one around. He had walked quite a ways away from the school, and not many people made it out this far by choice.

The kitten gave another small mewl, and bumped its nose against Draco's ankle, which was about as high as it could reach. His expression melted into a gentle smile, and he knelt down before the animal, holding his hand out for the kitten to sniff before running his fingers over its fur. When he pulled his hand away, the kitten tried to follow it, and ended up falling over sideways. Draco chuckled and picked the small animal up before standing up again. "What are you doing way out here?" he asked the cat, which mewled happily at him in return.

Taking another careful look around for anyone or anything the animal might belong to, he gave it up as a lost cause, and tucked the kitten into a large pocket on the inside of his robes. After a moment of wriggling, it popped its head out of the pocket and mewled happily once more. Draco pushed it back down before making his way to the castle. He couldn't just leave the helpless thing out there to get eaten by the next thing that saw it as an appetizer!

When he arrived back at his rooms, Harry was lounging on the couch, half asleep with a cup of tea in his hands. Draco rolled his eyes affectionately: Harry had all but moved into Draco's room. Not that he was complaining of course. He stepped silently over to the couch, and gently removed the cup, which was dangerously close to spilling, from Harry's hands. The dark-haired boy made a vague noise, and turned towards Draco.

Shaking his head, Draco turned to walk into his bedroom, just off the small common room, but was abruptly halted by a hand grasping his robes. He stopped, and a small mewl came from his pocket, the kitten disturbed by the sudden lurching of its hiding spot.

There was a short pause and then Harry said in a half mumble, "Draco…did you just meow?"

"Um…yes?"

Green eyes opened and peered up at him with obvious disbelief. The kitten meowed again, and Harry pulled the robe that was in his grasp towards him, finding a small head poking from the inner pocket. He blinked a few times at the animal, willing himself to wake up, and Draco huffed impatiently, pulling the cat from his pocket and cradling it in his hands. "I found it," he said defensively at the sudden twinkle in Harry's eye.

Biting back the sudden urge to laugh, because really Draco was just too adorable like that, Harry decided to humor the boy. He sat up, and patted the seat beside him, waiting patiently as Draco hesitantly sat. "You found it?" he repeated, watching as Draco set the kitten in his lap.

A nod from the blonde head, and Harry's attention was once again drawn to the boy beside him. "I was walking, and he came up to me, and there was no one else around, and I couldn't just leave him there, so I brought him back and – can I keep him, Harry?"

Harry blinked, separating Draco's sentence in his mind, and couldn't stop the small near-giggle that escaped him when he did. "Slytherin indeed…" he muttered affectionately, then continued, "why are you asking me to keep it anyway? I can't tell you what to do."

And as Draco took the time to realize that, Harry plucked the kitten from his lap, smiling as it batted his nose when he held it up, assuring it was the boy Draco suddenly claimed it to be.

"What will you name him, then?" Harry asked as he set the kitten down again, and began playing with it.

Draco thought for a moment, watching as the kitten attacked Harry's fingers, and then smiled. "Noah. I'll name him Noah."

Harry nodded, and watched as the kitten – Noah, now – mewled happily and pounced on Draco's leg, bumping his head against the boy's stomach. Harry smiled as Draco picked the kitten up, and lay down so that his head was in Harry's lap. He placed the little animal on his chest, where it sat down and batted at the tag of Draco's ornate collar.

Chuckling, Harry stretched out his legs so they rested on the table in front of him and said, "That's it, you just lost all privileges of using the Malfoy act on me."

Draco glared up at him, before the look was broken by a yawn, and he decided to simply not reply. "I need to make a trip to Diagon Alley later, to get food and stuff for him," he said, indicating Noah.

Harry traced his fingers lightly over Draco's chest, laughing when the kitten started following them, and said, "Sure, we can go tomorrow, after classes." Draco simply nodded in agreement, closing his eyes to the strange feel of Harry's fingers followed by small paws.

- - - - - - - - -

Unfortunately, that pleasant lull in time could not last forever, as Hermione had now taken the responsibility of being their entire group's "study nazi." At least, that was the term Ron used when the girl wasn't around, such as this moment. They were all sitting in the Gryffindor common room, finishing up their assignments due the next day. It seemed the closer the time came to take their N.E.W.T.S., the more homework was piled upon them.

Ron was sitting in a chair, slumped forward so far that his chin rested on the table in front of him. He sighed heavily, causing the current parchment he was working on to drift a few inches away from him. "There's _got_ to be some law about overdosing on Homework or something," he grumbled.

"Ron, that doesn't even make sense," Harry mumbled back. He was lying upside down on the couch, so that his feet were flung over the back of it, and his head hung over the edge of the cushions.

Draco cast an amused glance at his boyfriend before addressing Ron. "Besides, Weasley, this stuff isn't hard."

Harry beat Ron to the reply. "Speak for yourself, Draco; just because you and Hermione are naturally gifted in school, doesn't mean we all are."

Draco replied by reaching over, and dancing his fingers over Harry's throat, tickling him until Harry snorted and fell off the couch. He landed with a 'thump', and cast a glare upwards at a smug Draco.

"You've got boundless magic at your disposal, Harry; what are you complaining about?" he asked, chuckling lightly at Harry's disgruntled expression.

"That's not going to help me if I don't get the grades to pass."

"Well then I suppose you should stop slacking, shouldn't you?" Draco said, tugging at a lock of Harry's hair.

Harry batted the hand away and sat up, leaning back against the couch next to Draco's legs just as Hermione came back down the stairs.

"Here it is," she said, setting a book down on the table. She had disappeared several minutes before claiming to be missing the book she needed to find whatever answer she had been looking for. She took her seat in the chair across from Ron, who lifted his head and pulled his own parchment back towards him.

"Can't we go to bed yet?" Ron whined, and Hermione sent him an exasperated glance.

"And can't you do _anything_ but complain about the work?" Hermione countered. "We've only got about a month left of school, exams are in a few weeks, and I'm _trying_ to ensure we all do our best!" Her tone was edging toward a frazzled annoyance, which was no strange occurrence to her two best friends.

Ron and Harry exchanged a glance, and Harry raised his eyebrows, nodding towards the girl, who was flipping through her book quickly. Ron's brow scrunched in confusion for a moment, until Harry smiled and rested his hand on Draco's knee, hoisting himself up. "Well, I think I'm done for the night," he said as he stretched.

"You're not going to finish your homework?" Ron asked, watching disinterestedly as Harry reached out a hand for Draco to take.

"I finished what I needed to," Harry replied with a wink as he pulled Draco to his feet. Draco looked at him questioningly, but wasn't about to object to leaving the Gryffindor common room for the comfort of his own private room. "I'll see you two in the morning," Harry called over his shoulder, after he and Draco had packed their things and were heading out the door.

"Finally realized that alone time with me is a better way to spend the day?" Draco asked with a smirk after the portrait hole had closed behind them.

Harry rolled his eyes, adjusted his bag more comfortably over his shoulder, and smiled. "Hermione's stressed, Ron's tired…I just figure something good should be able to come out of that if given the chance. Plus, as much as I love Hermione, her study habits are enough to wear anyone out. And you have a very comfortable bed just calling my name."

Draco sent him a deadpan glare, to which Harry just laughed and ran ahead to Draco's room, leaving the other boy to shake his head, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth. McGonagall had given him his own room to separate them, but all that had done was give them more privacy. They had both gotten used to the extra warmth at night from Draco's time as a fox, and now there had been very few days that Harry actually slept in his own dorms. And even then it was only when circumstance (and often certain watchful professors) prevented him staying with Draco.

When Draco arrived at his room, having taken no faster pace than his initial walk, Harry was already sprawled out over his bed, taking up well over half of the king-sized mattress. Draco just smiled as he set his bag down in the corner and removed his robe, placing it over the back of a chair. He toed off his shoes and socks, and walked over and crawled into the bed. Harry's arm lifted automatically to curl around his waist. He turned so that his back pressed against Harry's chest, and smiled when Harry's lips began placing small kisses over the back of his neck. It was an interesting habit Harry had developed; he didn't do it all the time, but often before they slept, Harry would lay sleepy kisses across Draco's neck and shoulders before they both succumbed to unconsciousness.

"So are you going to explain that sudden exit earlier?" Draco finally asked, eyes half lidded as Harry's lips caressed the soft skin around his ear. He was able to feel it as Harry smiled.

"Just wanted to give them some time alone," Harry answered, laying his head on the pillow. "And that was an opportune moment for Ron to get in closer, while Hermione is distracted. They've been dancing around each other for far too long and their bickering is only worse because of it."

Draco chuckled and turned over, wrapping his own arms around Harry's middle. "I'm sure they'll figure it out eventually." He let out a huge yawn, and allowed his eyes to fall closed. "Probably not until we're done with N.E.W.T.S. though, knowing Granger."

Harry silently agreed, smiling at the truth of the statement. "Probably." But it fell on deaf ears, as Draco was already asleep. Harry watched him contentedly until he too fell asleep.

- - - - - - - - -

The days of exams came simultaneously too soon and not soon enough for the students of Hogwarts. All wished for more time to study, and yet they simply wanted it all to be over with so they could go about their summers work and worry-free. The seventh years were particularly antsy as they prepared to leave the school for good.

Hermione had taken to asking people questions out of the blue to see if they were prepared, and had at least one textbook open at every meal. Ron was caught between stressing over the exams with Hermione, and just ignoring them completely in some vain hope that it would all just go away. Draco stayed in his room more to escape the high-strung Gryffindors, and Harry was just ready for the year to end.

On the first day exams were held, Draco was woken up two hours before breakfast by quick knocking on his door. At first he just groaned and rolled over, causing Harry to shift in his sleep beside him. But the knocking persisted, and Draco was forced to get up and answer it.

Wearing nothing but the collar, (which never came off anyway) Draco wrenched open the handle to find Hermione on the other side, clutching a couple of books in her hands and biting her lip nervously. They stood in silence for a few long seconds, before Draco blinked and asked, "Granger…_why_ are you here? And at this ungodly hour, no less?"

For a long moment, she didn't speak, and Draco raised a brow as a deep flush spread from her neck to her ears. She opened her mouth twice before any sound came out, and when it did, it was only a squeak of embarrassment. Ron looked no better behind her, and he finally pointed, closed his eyes and yelled, "For the love of Merlin, put some _clothes_ on!!"

Draco looked down and realized he did indeed have nothing on. He'd decided to mess with Harry a bit the night before, after he stepped out of the shower in only a towel. The spark of appreciative lust in Harry's eyes had been well worth the late night. At least it had been until "the friends" decided to wake him up too early. "Well you shouldn't have come to wake me up at this ungodly hour, should you?" he countered, not moving from his position.

Hermione shifted her weight, and averted her gaze to the side. "I thought… that we might go over a few last things before breakfast. You know…just…just to be prepared," she finally managed to stutter. Well he had to give her credit for still saying what she had come to say.

Draco raised an eyebrow, and looked up to see a very disgruntled and disturbed Ron behind her. "I think we're past the point of last-minute cramming; time now is better spent sleeping, thank you very much." And with that point made, Draco swung the door closed again, catching a quick glimpse of the surprise on the two's faces before they were blocked from view. And they were both left to wonder how the blond could manage to keep every last shred of dignity in tact while answering the door stark naked. Draco yawned widely, and shuffled back into the bedroom, taking up his spot again, which was still delightfully warm.

"Whowuzzat?" Harry mumbled, not even bothering to open his eyes.

"Granger, with Weasley in tow," Draco answered easily, sighing as he started to drift off to sleep again.

"Okay," Harry replied, and there was a moment's pause before his eyes flew open. "Hermione and Ron? What did they want?"

Draco frowned as he was forced to wake up enough to answer. "She wanted to do some more cramming before the exams. I told her I'd rather sleep."

Harry rolled his eyes. "And you probably didn't tell her nicely, did you?" A shrug was his only answer, so Harry began to push himself up, intent on finding Hermione. He only managed to rise a few inches before an arm was thrown across his back, forcing him back down onto the mattress.

"You stay," Draco grumbled, pulling Harry against his side and burying his face in the dark hair. "You've already learned what you're going to learn, there's no point in stressing yourself about it now. That will only make things worse."

Harry took a moment to think about that, and had to agree. He really didn't want to get up yet anyway. Shifting his position, Harry slid his leg forward to tangle with Draco's. When he felt only smooth skin, he suddenly realized something. "Draco…you're not wearing anything…" he trailed off as he realized greeting his friends naked would not be outside his boyfriend's limits on behavior. Draco's answering grin gave him all the answers he needed to know.

So with an exasperated shake of his head, and a promise to himself to apologize to Hermione and Ron on Draco's behalf later, he easily fell asleep again for the couple of hours they had left.

When Harry saw her at breakfast, Hermione looked a bit miffed, and frowned half-heartedly at Draco when he walked in, but otherwise was her normal self. Harry apologized, and proceeded to emphasize the benefits of a good night's sleep, starting a debate of sleep versus studying that he lost track of very quickly. It did at least manage to provide some amusement to those around them in the otherwise dismal atmosphere of exams that hung over the students like a black cloud.

As far as the exams went, though, Harry felt he didn't do too badly on the written portions they had to take that day. He kept wondering through the history of magic exam about why he had even taken that course in the first place, but otherwise felt that he had done well enough for a passable grade. At dinner, he and Ron started their own conversation about quidditch while Hermione and Draco went over certain questions they got stuck on.

The practicals went much better for Harry, as hands-on had always been his strong point. And he couldn't be sure, but he felt some of the testers were asking him to do more than the other people, especially in Defense Against the Dark Arts. He let it slide with a sigh, though, allowing them to work out their excitement at testing _The_ Harry Potter.

By the time exams were finished, many students were claiming their brains were now dead or fried, and hardly any could be found in their common rooms the last day before the train would take them home. Hermione, Ron, Harry and Draco had taken up a spot under a large tree by the lake to simply enjoy the time to relax. Draco's kitten Noah pounced about happily, enjoying being taken outside as he attacked the group's shoelaces. Harry had summoned them all cups of tea, and now they sat either in silence, or talking about any thought that struck them.

"So Harry, what are your plans now?" Hermione suddenly asked, and he looked up from his tea in surprise.

"What do you mean?" he replied, setting his cup down in the grass.

"Well, now that we're finished with school, what are you going to do? Do you still plan on becoming an Auror?"

Harry gave a sort of half shrug, and averted his gaze towards the castle, the building that had been his home for seven years. "I'm…not entirely sure," he said honestly, plucking a blade of grass and twirling it. "I think, for now, I'm not going to do anything. Frankly, I need a break."

Hermione smiled in understanding, and immediately moved on to her next question. "Where are you going to live?"

Harry surprised himself when he realized that he hadn't given that a thought at all. There was no way he was going back to the Dursleys, now that he was of age. He didn't want to impose on Ron's family, no matter that Molly would say it was no trouble, and he didn't know Hermione's parents well enough to feel comfortable asking them to spare a room.

"Live with me," Draco suddenly spoke up, looking intently at Harry.

"What?" Harry asked on reflex, and three heads turned to look at Draco in surprise.

With a roll of his eyes, Draco sighed. "Honestly Harry, I can't make it any simpler than that," he said teasingly. "There is no way I'm letting you return to the Dursleys, so instead of trying to figure out where you're going to go, just come live with me." He smiled hopefully, but his gaze was no less intense.

Suddenly Harry's thoughts were pulled back to Christmas time, and those two weeks he had stayed at Malfoy Manor with Draco. He still remembered his moment in the kitchen, when he had imagined a life there, and found that he was quite happy to make that little daydream a reality. The time they had had over the semester had been great, and he imagined life with him at the manor would be even better. With a smile he nodded, returning Draco's gaze, and said simply, "I'd love to." Draco grinned back and leaned in for a quick kiss: something he didn't do very often in front of Harry's friends.

Hermione watched them with a small, amused smile on her face, and Ron just shook his head with a sigh, keeping his thoughts of Harry being doomed to a life of misery to himself. Harry seemed happy about it, and that would be enough.

They talked about inconsequential things for a few minutes, before two shadows fell across the grass before them. The entire group looked up to see Pansy and Blaise standing there, looking hesitant yet determined.

The three Gryffindors were immediately on guard, and Harry stood in a flash, nearly growling at the newcomers. "What do you two want?" he asked roughly, and Draco was reminded of Harry's animagus, the tiger form he'd very nearly forgotten.

Blaise raised his hands in a gesture of sarcastic surrender. "Chill, Potter," he said with a sneer. "We're only here to talk to Draco."

"Why, so you can try to _imperio_ him again? Take him under your wing and make him the next dark lord?"

Draco sighed almost imperceptibly and stood, resting a warm and calming hand on Harry's arm, which was raised and tensed defensively. He kept his eyes on Pansy and Blaise when he spoke. "Harry, there are many intricacies to war that you were never exposed to, and many I would not expect a Gryffindor to understand."

Harry's tense posture faltered, and he looked at Draco with a curious eye. "What are you talking about Draco?" He could not forget the time when Draco had tackled him, very near a nervous breakdown, and exclaiming about the Slytherins' plot to curse him with the imperius.

"They did what they needed to do in order to survive. Things were different on the dark side of the war, Harry."

"But they were your friends! They turned their backs on you the second you turned around!"

Draco looked at him then, and Harry wasn't sure what to make of the intensely calculating gaze. "It wasn't about friends, Harry," he said. "It was about allies; and about survival." Then he smiled softly and kissed Harry's cheek, ruffling his hair before stepping away. "I'll be back in a bit."

Pansy and Blaise watched with interest as Draco's demeanor changed from open and content to cool and calculating in the few steps it took him to reach them.

"Well come on then," he said, walking off and placing his hands in his pockets, expecting the other two to follow.

When they were a good distance away, Draco turned to the other Slytherins and raised an eyebrow. "Okay, so what did you want to talk about?"

"You're sure about this decision of yours to be with Potter?" Pansy asked in what could easily be described as a whine. She wasted no time in getting to the point she wanted to make. "Sure you're not going to turn around any minute and say it was just to embarrass him? I mean, weren't we supposed to be married once we were out of school?"

Draco sighed and closed his eyes, gathering the patience to deal with Pansy right now, while Blaise smirked in amusement. Honestly, the girl was like a dog with a bone sometimes when she got an idea into her head.

"Pansy, dear, we were never _supposed_ to be anything. It was what our parents wished for, and probably would have expected and pushed for. But in case you haven't noticed, my parents are _dead_, and therefore I have no obligation to carry out their wishes for my marriage." Try as he might, he couldn't keep the bitterness from seeping into his voice at the fate of his family. But he pushed through the darker thoughts and focused on the conversation at hand. "I love Harry," he continued, making sure Pansy would see his point. "And I intend to stay with him for as long as he will have me. I've never felt so strongly about anyone before, and for once I am not going to deny myself happiness."

Blaise sighed and shook his head, allowing a small smile at Draco. "Well at least one of us has found it," he said, and Pansy looked properly ashamed, averting her gaze to the side.

Draco stepped forward and placed his hand on Blaise's shoulder, causing the other boy to look up in surprise. "And there's no reason you two can't either," he said confidently. "We're living in a brand new world now. You were never convicted of being death eaters, so now is your chance to find a better life without the pressures of the war."

Pansy frowned contemplatively, and gave Draco a strange look. "When did you become one of them?" she asked, not quite disgusted. She sounded more annoyed than anything.

Draco smirked in return. "I haven't become anything," he said. "I've just seized an opportunity as it's presented itself. The question is, what will you two do?"

Blaise sighed and directed his gaze to the sky. "I guess we start over." He frowned and looked back at the school. "Man, I hate being on the losing side of things."

Draco's lips quirked in amusement, but he said nothing.

"Well, this has been great and all," Pansy said, obviously having had enough of the conversation. "But I've got a pedicure waiting for me back in the dorm. See you around, Draco."

The two boys watched her progression to the castle, and Blaise finally chuckled. "Well, I think you got your point across." Draco nodded, and they were silent for a moment before Blaise spoke again. "Just one question." When he was sure he had Draco's attention, he continued. "Why Potter? Out of all the people in the world, what is it about _him_?"

A small smile touched Draco's face, and his eyes softened ever so slightly as he thought of his boyfriend, and Blaise was amazed by the difference it made on the boy he'd known to be cold as ice for so many years. "He forgave me," he said simply, staring off at some unknown and unseen point in the distance.

Blaise waited for a moment, but when no more words were forthcoming, he spoke again. "That's it? You're with him because he forgave you?"

Draco chuckled and shook his head. "No. I'm with him because I love him. And because I forgave myself."

Blaise took a moment to ponder his words, and finally gave a somewhat absent nod. He walked over to Draco, and pecked him lightly on his forehead. Draco blinked and furrowed his brow: Blaise didn't often show any sort of affection. Then again, neither did he, and when Blaise smiled, shoved his hands in his pockets and backed away with a nod, Draco understood. It was a goodbye, and an acknowledgement of moving on.

Draco nodded back, showed a small smile of his own, and gave a half salute before walking off. When he arrived back to the small circle, he sat against the tree and pulled Harry into his lap, not caring that the other two were still there. He rested his chin on Harry's shoulder and closed his eyes.

Harry sent his boyfriend a bemused glance, and shrugged one shoulder at his friends' questioning looks. He was sure that whatever happened with the Slytherins would stay with them. He was too happy about the prospect of going to live with Draco to really care anyway.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

A/N: Well there you have it: the first chapter of my sequel, posted by popular demand. :smiles: We're in for a bit more of a bumpy ride on this one, I think, and I hope you enjoy it as much as the first. And I know there wasn't a lot to this chapter…but hey, it's only the introduction. More will pick up in the next one. So as always, tell me what you think!


	2. The Instincts Never Lie

A/N: :bows down to my readers: I sincerely apologize for the ridiculous amount of time it took me to get this chapter out!! You were all so wonderful about reviewing the first chapter, (27 on a first chap is definitely a record for me) and then I go and take forever. I'll explain more at the end because no one ever reads the beginning author's note anyway. Oh and ignore the lame chapter title…I couldn't think of anything.

And as always, thanks to my wonderful beta, 13thMoonWitch, without whom I would have far less ideas to sort through in my writing. :P

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

**Chapter 2: The Instincts Never Lie**

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Harry was hard-pressed to keep the grin from his face as he walked up the drive to Malfoy Manor with trunk in tow. Draco had looked at him strangely when Harry refused apparition straight into the building.

"It feels more real this way," he had said, smiling sheepishly. "It adds a certain sense of 'moving in' and 'starting over' that apparating really just doesn't have."

So Draco had just smiled bemusedly, shrunk his own trunk, and led Harry through the beautiful, well-kept lawns that accentuated the equally beautiful stone manor, while Noah followed behind them, pouncing at the occasional stray flower. The closer they got, the more Harry wondered at how he had ever thought a home of Draco's to be a terrible place.

When they arrived at the front porch, Harry bounced on his toes while Draco unlocked the door and set the wards to recognize Harry as a resident of the house. Draco chuckled as he held open the door, making a show of bowing as Harry walked through. "It's not like you haven't been here before, you know," he said once Harry was inside, and closed the door again. He barely turned around before he was being pressed against the wall.

Harry placed his hands against Draco's stomach and nuzzled his neck, laying kisses here and there over the soft skin.

Draco chuckled and wrapped his arms around Harry's waist, pulling him closer. "What brought this on?" he asked, tilting his head to the side as Harry's lips moved to nip at his ear.

Harry shrugged and pulled his head back just a bit, murmuring against Draco's jaw, "Do I need a reason to show my boyfriend I love him?"

"Of course not," Draco whispered back. He moved his hands lower, cupping Harry's arse as their bodies aligned, and he brought their lips together for a deep kiss. He moaned softly as Harry's tongue darted forward, tracing every part of Draco's mouth he could.

And then as suddenly as he had begun, Harry pulled away and said, "So why don't you give me a proper tour of the place?"

He said it so naturally and so cheerfully that it took Draco a full 20 seconds to actually register what was said. And when he did, all he could manage at first was a slow, "What?" before he came to his senses and added, "How in Merlin's name do you change moods so quickly?" His tone sounded like a miffed pout, and Harry chuckled, laying a light, patronizing kiss on Draco's bottom lip.

"Well it doesn't help that your cat is clawing at my leg," he mumbled, but not without a small smile.

Draco blinked and looked down, and he wasn't quite able to stop the small snort of amusement that escaped him. Noah had found an interest in a stray thread on the bottom of Harry's jeans, and was alternately attacking the string and Harry's leg. Laughing, Draco bent and scooped the kitten into one arm, while throwing the other over Harry's shoulders. He leaned in close to his boyfriend's ear and said, "And that, my dear Harry, is why you should wear tailored clothes."

"So I don't get mauled by kittens?" Harry asked skeptically, raising a brow as Draco started leading him through the entryway.

Draco threw his head back and laughed, startling Noah, who jumped from the blonde's arms and scampered down a nearby hallway. "Yes Harry, you wear nice clothes to save you from the kittens. No one ever told you?"

Harry shook his head, mock serious as he bit the inside of his cheek to hold in his laughter. The absurdity of the situation was something that had become just so…_Draco_, and he found it absolutely endearing.

The drama queen in question gasped, throwing his free hand over his heart as if wounded. "You poor soul! You have _much_ to learn, love!" he ended the statement with a tap to Harry's nose, and Harry just smiled and shook his head, gaining a grin from Draco in return.

"Obviously I'm not the only one capable of quick mood changes. Now, I think you were going to show me around? And then I'll figure out something extra good to make for dinner."

Draco's mouth watered at the thought, and he used the arm still around Harry's shoulders to guide him from the entryway. "Tour it is, then!" he exclaimed as he led them away. He didn't take them through every minor hall and room, as that would have taken far too long, but he did have a nice time explaining to Harry different themes of different rooms, and some of the more interesting magical elements of the manor. He also decided he would never tire of seeing that almost childlike wonder spread across Harry's face, causing his eyes to sparkle in delight at the simplest things. "Really, Harry, you act like you've never seen my home before," Draco said as they came back to the kitchen.

Harry smiled absently, and shrugged. "It's big. And I still think it's amazing you grew up here." He reached up and began opening cabinets, taking note of what was in them. "And besides, last time I didn't get to see the whole place. We mostly stayed in just the main area."

"True. We had more important things to worry about, then," Draco agreed as he perched on the counter. Harry wondered if Draco realized he'd made a habit of doing that when Harry cooked.

Raising an eyebrow in response to Draco's statement, Harry said, "You mean like how stupid you were being?"

Draco stuck out his tongue in retaliation, and leaned back on his hands. "I thought we agreed not to talk about that anymore?"

"I don't remember agreeing to that," Harry responded easily as he started pulling some ingredients down.

"Well, you're agreeing to it now, because I don't want to talk about it."

"You're the one who brought it up."

"I made a vague reference."

"We can't just avoid every bad thing in this relationship, you know."

"Oh? What about that 'forgive and forget' speech, then?"

"Meow!"

Harry's mouth snapped shut on his next reply, and both boys stopped their banter and looked over into the doorway, where Noah had returned from whatever exploring of the manor he had been doing. He totted over to Harry and rubbed against his ankle. Harry chuckled and picked the kitten up, only to plop him in Draco's lap. "Feed the cat, love."

Draco rolled his eyes good-naturedly as he slid off the counter. "Yes, mother."

Harry watched from the corner of his eye as Draco walked to the other side of the kitchen, and opened another set of cabinets, searching for a moment before pulling out a container of milk. Harry realized that must be the equivalent of a muggle refrigerator. He set Noah on the floor and got out a bowl from another cabinet. "I had the elves stock the kitchen, you know," he said suddenly, and Harry looked up in surprise. "Normally we'd have only the very basics in here, if that, while everything else was kept in the kitchens below, where the house elves would use it." He bent to pour the milk, and Harry almost laughed when he realized Draco had faced away on purpose.

"How kind of you," Harry finally responded, raising an eyebrow and wearing a slight smirk when Draco finally stood and turned back around.

Draco returned the expression and said, "You know you enjoy it."

"Who says?"

"No one has to say it," Draco said smoothly as he walked over to Harry and pulled him into a hug. "It's written all over your face. It always is…what you feel, or think."

Blushing slightly, Harry turned his head and grumbled incoherently into Draco's shoulder, causing the taller boy to chuckle. "It's not a bad thing. You just wouldn't be you without that fire that makes you Harry Potter." And then he pulled Harry into a deep kiss, not letting go for long moments. When he pulled back, Harry looked slightly dazed, and Draco left another light peck on his lips before patting his head and walking from the room.

Harry pouted when he finally realized Draco was just paying him back for leaving him at the entryway, but decided to go back to cooking for now. After all, plans were already starting to form in his mind. He realized, looking back, that although they were no strangers to the other's body, they hadn't actually gone all the way yet. He wasn't sure about Draco, but he knew that for him, at least part of it was the fear that Draco would leave him. With a past of people coming and going, and never being sure if people liked him for who he was, he was slow to trust completely.

Harry blinked and stared down at the pan in his hand. But now? They've been together for months, and Harry was sure he'd seen almost every side of Draco there was. In a relationship built over such a rough past, he realized they both needed time to be assured, and he wanted to know that Draco would not just up and leave after having sex with him.

Stepping backwards slightly, Harry positioned himself so that he could see Draco in the living room, laying on the couch and playing with Noah. A slow smile spread across Harry's face as he watched the Slytherin softy, and he felt that barrier fade away. After all the time that had passed, and the things they went through since that fateful day in the pet shop, he trusted Draco completely, and tonight he planned to show him that.

And so with this resolution in mind, Harry stepped back to the stove – a wizarding version, of course – and resumed cooking, letting his mind wander where it wanted.

- - - - - - - - -

"Do you think we'll ever get a completely competent minister?"

Harry looked up from the forkful of potatoes on the way to his mouth, and tilted his head sideways in thought. "Maybe if you become the minister," he answered absently before eating the potatoes.

Draco chuckled and shook his head, leaning back in his chair as he sipped his tea, having already finished his dinner. "Too direct. I'm a Slytherin, Harry…a more 'behind-the-scenes' kind of guy."

Harry laughed and eyed Draco calculatingly. "So you don't want the ministry, you just want to control it."

With a small shrug, Draco answered, "If I found it necessary to get involved at all, then yes. If there was anything I learned from my father, it's that people with power almost never know what to do with it."

"Too bad Dumbledore never took the position," Harry sighed wistfully, crossing his arms behind his head.

"You would make just as good a minister as he would have, Harry." Harry gave his boyfriend a very skeptical look. Ignoring this, Draco continued. "And just imagine, with me at your back, we could rule the world!"

Harry couldn't stop the amused grin that took over his face when the image of him and Draco standing as kings of the world entered his mind. It didn't help that the image looked like a badly drawn cartoon. Shaking his head to clear it, Harry said, "I don't want to rule the world, I just want it not to be stupid."

Draco smiled back and said simply, "Well good luck then."

Deciding to end this conversation before it could derail into anything that made even less sense, Harry stood, and after one last drink of his tea, began heading towards Draco's room. "I'm going to have a bath, and you should make a place for Noah to sleep."

Draco couldn't do much more than blink in surprise as he watched Harry disappear around the corner. He looked down at the kitten curled up near his feet and shrugged, picking up the cat and following Harry's path. Almost as an afterthought, he called one of the five house elves left at the manor to clean the dining table.

In his room, Draco grabbed one of many pillows on his bed, and transfigured it into a small bed, filling it with a blanket and setting it on the seat under the window. Pleased with his work, he placed his hands on his hips and swept his gaze over his room. He wondered vaguely if Harry thought it to be too extravagant, but he loved the king-sized bed, the mahogany furniture, and the wall of books on the far side.

His thoughts were interrupted though as his eyes caught on something out of place…just a bit of clothing, but it was enough to distract him. Of course it was the fact that it was Harry's boxers that kept his sight on them longer than normal. His gaze flicked to the bathroom door, situated in a corner of his room, where running water could be heard from the other side, and a lovely fragrance hit his nose. He took a moment to be amused that Harry would take a bath with flower-scented soaps, before the image hit his mind of Harry in the tub and using those flower-scented soaps.

Mouth suddenly gone dry, Draco licked his lips and took a few unconscious steps closer to the bathroom door, feeling heat rush through his body as his mind happily supplied all sorts of images to him. A low humming met his ears, and he realized with a start that the song was 'Green Sleeves.' The same song that was playing at Christmas, when he'd given Harry his gift. A slow smile curved his lips, and he reached for the doorknob, deciding to surprise his dark-haired lover.

But he was beaten to it when the door creaked open, and a slyly grinning Harry poked his head out. "I was wondering how long it would take you to join me," he said smoothly, reaching for Draco's hands and pulling him into the bathroom – which was decorated as extravagantly as the bedroom.

Draco raised a brow in surprise as he looked around, noticing candles floating above the Jacuzzi-style tub, reminding him of that room Harry created by mistake in the room of requirements several months before. Harry himself only wore a towel around his waist that hung low on his hips, and the medallion around his neck. And with his glasses off and the steam causing his hair to fall haphazardly about his face, Draco was sure he couldn't have imagined a sexier image than what was standing before him. Growling softly in his throat, Draco stepped forward until he was within arm's reach, and rested his arms over Harry's shoulders. "You brat," he muttered affectionately. "You planned this all out."

"Of course I did," Harry replied, stepping closer while reaching up to undo the buttons of Draco's shirt. He leaned in close, warm breath ghosting across Draco's neck. "You know I love you, right?" he mumbled, placing feather-light kisses under Draco's jaw as his hands continued to divest Draco of his clothes.

Draco swallowed thickly, placing one hand behind Harry's head, and running the other down his bare back. "Of course I do, Harry."

Harry showed his approval with a nip at Draco's ear. "And you love me too?"

Cool air hit his chest as his shirt fell to the floor, and Draco pulled back for just a second to remove his pants as well, growing impatient with Harry's slow pace, gaining a chuckle from the other boy. "Absolutely," he finally answered, and leaned in for a smoldering kiss.

Harry grinned into Draco's mouth, and reached forward with his foot to close the door, dragging Draco backwards towards the tub, and to a night Harry made sure neither of them would ever forget.

- - - - - - - - -

Harry lay in bed, tangled in warm limbs, and knowing he'd never felt more content or been more comfortable than he was at this moment. Soft light filtered in through cream-colored curtains, and he ducked his head under Draco's chin with every intention of going back to sleep for a few more hours, or maybe even the rest of the day.

But of course, being Harry Potter, his luck never worked that way. A persistent tapping reached his ears, and Harry tried to pull the covers over his head, but was foiled when Draco shoved them back down.

"Harry, go let the owl in," Draco muttered sleepily, tightening his grip around Harry's waist at the same time.

"Don't you have a special owl entrance in this place or something?" Harry grumbled.

Frowning, Draco thought for a moment before replying, "No."

Harry sighed in annoyance, blinking a few times to try and wake himself up. "You're going to have to let me up, you know," he said, patting Draco's arm lightly.

Draco grumbled his opinion on that, but loosed his grip and turned onto his other side. Harry just rolled his eyes and stood, walking to the window and opening it for the bird. Noah was immediately on alert as Harry walked over to him, and pounced playfully at the owl as soon as it flew into the room. Harry chuckled as the owl landed on a desk and stared reproachfully at the small kitten. After taking the letter, Harry decided to get back at Draco for making him get up, and picked Noah up, tossing him lightly on the bed, and onto Draco's head.

The blonde yelped as Noah extended his claws in surprise and caught Draco's hair. After he managed to detangle the cat from his head, he gave Harry an annoyed glare and got up to get a bowl of milk for the kitten. Harry just chuckled after him, and opened the letter in his hands, scanning it first then reading it again slower. He sat on the bed with a contemplative frown, to which Draco gave a curious glance as he came back in the room.

"Who's it from?" Draco asked as he set the milk on the floor, and sat beside Harry.

"McGonagall," Harry replied, looking both perplexed and bemused.

Draco raised his eyebrows. "The headmistress? Why did she send you a letter?"

Harry shrugged and passed the letter over, flopping backwards on the bed with a sigh. "It's to both of us, actually."

Draco took a moment to read over the letter. "They're throwing a party for our year?"

"Yeah, apparently since we 'overcame difficulties greater than most deal with in a lifetime' we deserve a party to celebrate our graduation. It's for all the students in our year. The minister is coming too."

"Of course he is," Draco said with a roll of his eyes, "you're going to be there."

"Says who?" Harry countered, getting comfortable again on the mattress.

Draco smiled patronizingly, and lay across the dark haired boy's stomach. "Oh come on, Harry, you know you're going to be there anyway."

Harry just grunted in response, as he knew it was true. He would probably be expected, and at least it would be a chance to see everybody again before they all started going their separate ways. "I bet it was Dumbledore's idea."

"Well you don't honestly think the stiffest teacher we ever had would've planned it, do you?"

"Stiffest?" Harry said with a slightly amused grin.

"You _know_ what I meant," Draco replied, not sure whether to roll his eyes or to laugh.

"I don't know, Snape's always held that title for me."

"That's only because he hated you. McGonagall's that way to everyone."

"Whatever…how about we _not_ spend our free time discussing our teachers' personalities?

"Fine with me," Draco laughed as he turned over and closed his eyes. "When did the letter say this thing will be?"

"Next Saturday," Harry mumbled, resting his hand over the back of Draco's neck.

Draco yawned and, not feeling like getting up just yet, drifted off to sleep again.

Harry lay awake for a little longer, his gaze shifting to the piece of parchment set aside on the bed. He had a very strange feeling in his gut about that party, and it was slightly unsettling because his instincts were almost never wrong. With an annoyed sigh, he picked up the letter and folded it back up, setting it aside as he turned away from it and decided to join Draco in going back to sleep.

- - - - - - - - -

A couple days later Draco was walking to the kitchen to get a drink, but was stopped as he passed by the living room, where he heard Harry's name repetitively being called by a very familiar voice. He walked in until he could see the fireplace and rolled his eyes.

"Harry? Harry! Haaaaarrryyyyyy…"

"Weasley."

The head in the fireplace jumped and turned towards Draco. "Malfoy!" He didn't give the other boy a chance to respond before he continued. "Harry's here, right? Where is he?"

Draco scrutinized Ron for a moment, mostly to make him squirm before he turned around and walked back the way he had come.

Ron stared after him, his brows furrowed. "Malfoy? Hey…hey where did you go? Come on, is he here or not?"

"Ron?"

"Harry!" Ron cried as Harry appeared in the living room, looking as if he had been caught in the middle of dressing. Ron's eye twitched as he realized the possible implications of that, and immediately pushed them away. "Harry, can I come through?"

Harry took a moment to glance behind him, then turned around with a smile, shrugging carelessly. "Sure."

"Great!" Ron's head disappeared for a moment before there was a rush of green flame and Ron's whole body stepped through. "How's your vacation going?"

Harry chuckled and sat down on the couch, motioning for Ron to take a seat as well. "It's only been a few days Ron, but, it's going well." He watched as Ron practically bounced in his seat, and finally gave in. "Alright Ron, what's the big news?"

"I asked Hermione out!" the redhead blurted, grinning widely.

Harry smiled as well, as Ron's happiness could be infectious, and shook his head. "I don't know if I should congratulate you, or pop you for taking so long."

Ron just laughed and waved the statement off. "A congratulations will do fine, thanks."

"Congratulations Weasley," came a smooth voice from the hallway. "And here I was wondering if you would ever catch up."

"Catch up?" Ron repeated, looking as if the words appalled him somehow. "Gee, Malfoy, I didn't know this was a competition."

Draco blinked a couple times, and he took on an expression similar to Ron's for a second before his normal superior aristocracy fell back into place. "Not to _us_. I meant catch up with what everyone else was already aware of."

Ron opened his mouth to respond, but quickly closed it again with an annoyed puff of his cheeks, and he glared at the blonde. Then he turned to Harry and asked innocently, "Remind me, Harry, _why_ are you with him?"

Harry chuckled and patted Ron's shoulder. At the same time, Draco walked further into the room and over to Harry, lithely placing himself in the boy's lap and smirking at Ron. "Because he just can't resist my kisses," the Slytherin said coyly, nuzzling the side of Harry's neck.

Ron raised his brows at Harry, who could only shrug as a slow blush crept over his cheeks. "Well, he does have a point," he said, voice taken on a slightly defensive edge.

Rolling his eyes, Ron stood and turned towards the fireplace. "Right, I'll take that as my cue to leave, then." He took two steps before turning around suddenly. "Oh and Harry, you're coming to the party thing this weekend, right?"

"Don't worry Weasley, he'll be there. Now be a good boy and run along, won't you?" After all, Harry's friend or not, he didn't want the ginger-haired boy to get the idea that he was invited to Draco's home at any time. That privilege was reserved for very few.

"I suppose it's too much to hope you two will ever actually be _friends_, huh?" Harry asked in a tone that really made it more of a statement.

Draco smiled and tugged lightly at Harry's ear with his teeth, wrapping his arms around him at the same time. "He makes it too easy, Harry. It's much more fun to mess with him." Harry just rolled his eyes and gave in, turning his head to give Draco a kiss.

"Just promise me you won't do anything to mess up Ron and Hermione's relationship?" Harry murmured, and Draco sighed.

"Okay, okay, I promise. I'll be _nice_…" he gave a wicked grin and pushed Harry onto his back. "To them," he finished before nipping a sensitive spot on Harry's neck. The Gryffindor hissed in surprise, and quickly forgot all about Ron and relationships and parties.

- - - - - - - - -

"Draco!" Harry called as he rummaged through his trunk near Draco's bed.

"Yeah?" Draco called back through the bathroom door, where he had just finished with a shower.

"Have you seen my tie?"

It was such a clichéd married-couple question, that Draco snorted trying to hold back his laughter. "How could you have lost your tie _already_? You haven't even worn it anywhere!"

Harry turned towards the door, glaring at Draco, who now stood dressed in a nice pair of black slacks, a light grey shirt and a light silk robe for the warming weather. It took Harry a moment to remember that he was miffed at the picture of beauty standing in the doorway, but by then the annoyance had passed and he turned around with a pout.

Draco chuckled and walked up behind him, sliding his arms around Harry's waist. He rested his head on the shorter boy's shoulder and asked, "What do you need it for, anyway?"

One shoulder lifted into a half-hearted shrug as Harry replied, "Just wanted to show a bit of house pride, I guess."

Shaking his head, Draco left a kiss on Harry's cheek before pulling away. "Harry I don't think there will be a _single_ person there who does not know that you were a Gryffindor. You're practically the new house mascot anyway. Harry the tiger: the Gryffindor lion."

"Oh Merlin that's even worse than the boy-who-lived," Harry groaned, causing Draco to laugh. At least 'boy-who-lived' wasn't a contradiction.

"Here," Draco offered as he plucked a shirt from the mass of cloth spilling over the sides of Harry's trunk. "Wear this one."

Harry blinked at the white button-down before taking it from Draco's hands. It must have been one of the ones he'd gotten on their shopping spree that one day, because he hadn't even been aware of owning this one. So he put on the recommended garment, and took a moment to marvel at its comfort before grabbing his cloak and fastening it around his neck.

"Wonderful," Draco said as he looked over Harry's form with an eye of approval. "It's amazing the difference one outfit can make, isn't it?"

Harry turned to a nearby mirror to examine this difference for himself, and raised his eyebrows in surprise. It's not like the outfit was complicated, or lavish; no it was very simple with a white shirt, and black pants of a sturdy material with a single chain linking two belt loops. That one was Harry's personal touch. Then the cloak thrown on top combined with his stylishly mussed hair (courtesy of Draco's touch) gave him a very – loath as he was to admit it – _heroic_ look. "Are you sure I should wear this? I'm not going so I can stand out, you know. I just want to see my friends and the others from school."

With a slight smirk in place, Draco stepped forward so that he stood beside Harry, and admired their forms in the mirror. "And let you walk out of my home looking like a street urchin? Oh no, Harry, you look stunning and that's how it should be. Now buck up," he said suddenly with a hard pat to Harry's back to get him to stand straighter. "This thing is starting in twenty minutes and we need to catch the portkey."

"Aww, can't I just apparate us there?" Harry countered, almost wincing at the whining tone of his own voice.

Draco raised an eyebrow and his smirk became much more pronounced. "Now who was it that didn't want to stand out just a moment ago? And now you want to _apparate_? They'll have set up anti-apparition wards, Harry. No, I think the standard entrance will do. Now come on, let's go." He grabbed Harry's hand, and after checking to make sure he had left Noah with enough food and water, led them both outside, where they would apparate to the portkeys being set up at King's Cross Station.

- - -

"Tell me again, why we all had to come to King's Cross for portkeys?" Draco complained with a slight frown as he observed the rest of the happily reuniting students.

Harry just smiled distractedly and grabbed his boyfriend's hand as he searched for his own friends to reunite with. "Because it would be too difficult to send them all individually…I think that's illegal in some way, anyway. And something about coming here being reminiscent of going to school by the train."

Draco rolled his eyes as he allowed himself to be dragged along. "Right, because we all need that nostalgia only a few weeks after school ended."

"Oh look! There's Seamus and Dean!" Harry cried suddenly, and picked up his pace towards his friends. Draco tugged on his hand, bringing the Gryffindor back a step and forcing him to slow down. When Harry turned a pout towards him, he only smiled back, gesturing towards the two other Gryffindors that were now waving them over. So deciding that letting it drop would be easier, Harry continued at a more sedate pace to say hello to his classmates.

Draco said the obligatory hellos, since he had, after all, lived with these people for a full semester, before he tuned out the conversation and turned his gaze to the rest of the platform. After only a couple of minutes he spotted Blaise walking towards him, and raised an eyebrow when the darker boy waved him over. Keeping a speculative eye on Blaise, Draco leaned over and whispered to Harry, "I'll be back in a bit," and walked off, leaving Harry to blink curiously after him.

"Okay," Harry answered, somewhat pointlessly since the only ones still there to hear him were Seamus, Dean and Neville, who had joined them shortly after Harry arrived.

"Blaise," Draco nodded as he stepped up to his old friend.

Blaise offered a nod and a polite smile in return. There was a moment of silence, and Blaise shifted his weight a few times. Draco furrowed his brow at his friend's behavior: Blaise didn't fidget unless something was up. "Okay, what is it?" he finally asked, straight to the point.

Stilling his movements, Blaise looked around the platform as if searching for something, then sighed before turning back to Draco. "Honestly, Draco, I'm not entirely sure," he answered. "It's something about this party…reunion…thing."

Draco's eyebrows rose in interest. He realized Harry and Blaise were alike in that way: both relied on gut feelings and instinct for a lot of things. But while Harry's instinct was finely tuned to his own survival and immediate danger, Blaise had a knack for sensing things…less obvious, and much more tactical in nature. "But it's just an early reunion, isn't it? A party to celebrate our survival through the years?"

"Draco, darling, does Potter have you living under a rock now?"

Both boys turned as Pansy's amused voice reached them, and they greeted her before Draco spoke up. "And what is that supposed to mean?"

Pansy looked between the two boys, as if assessing whether they were worthy to receive whatever superior knowledge she held, before smiling and shaking her head. "This is no simple school event. It's open to all public still wishing to celebrate Voldemort's timely demise, _or_," and here she paused dramatically for effect, giving Draco an unsettling look before continuing. "Or, for those wishing for a chance to meet Potter."

It took a moment for Draco to put together everything that would entail, and realize that that was, in fact, a very bad thing. "What?" he finally asked, part question and part exclamation. "I thought showcasing Harry was a ministry thing."

"Oh it most definitely is," Pansy replied, examining her nails. "And whose idea do you think this event was?"

"Well frankly, we thought it might be Dumbledore's suggestion to McGonagall," Draco answered.

Blaise smirked in amusement. "Such a party does sound like something the old man would come up with, doesn't it?"

"I think the initial idea _was_ his," Pansy offered, looking contemplative. "But you know how the ministry is. I overheard my mother talking with a few friends of hers, and one of them said the minister made McGonagall an offer."

"He bribed her?" Draco cut in with a raised brow, very disbelieving of the fact that McGonagall of all people could be persuaded like that. He knew the letter had mentioned the minister's presence at this event, but he had heard nothing about him having any part in the planning of it.

"Of course not, Draco," Pansy scoffed. "He's turned it into a charity thing, somehow. I didn't catch the details, so I really don't know any more than that.

Blaise frowned and added, "No doubt he wants to keep an eye on the next generation of possible dark lords, too."

Draco rolled his eyes with annoyed realization. "No, I definitely wouldn't put it past the ministry to come up with any sort of excuse for something like that. But," he said with a smirk, "we do have one advantage there."

Both Blaise and Pansy turned curious gazes on him, silently asking what advantage they had. "Harry," he said simply and smiled. The other two sighed, and were silent before exchanging glances.

"Smitten," Blaise muttered.

"Completely," Pansy replied.

"And still standing here," Draco added, glaring at the other two Slytherins.

"Besides," Pansy continued, placing her hands on her hips. "That works for you, but what about us?

Draco tried to look apologetic, and was saved from having to say anything when Blaise spoke up. "That's not necessarily a fool-proof advantage, you know. Being with him hasn't produced all good publicity, in case you've forgotten."

"Of course I haven't forgotten," Draco replied in a tone that showed such a suggestion was completely ridiculous. He might've gone on to tell Blaise off for thinking so lowly of him, but a loud voice, magically enhanced, cut in over all the other conversations, effectively silencing the station.

"Will everybody please step to the portkey holder nearest them? They are set to activate in one minute. Once again, please find the nearest portkey, they will all be leaving in one minute. Thank you."

Draco looked up in surprise, getting ready to go back to Harry, but stopped when he saw just how crowded the platform had become. "Since when were there so many people in our year?" he muttered, looking over the crowd for that distinctive mop of black hair. He finally caught sight of Harry when the other boy waved at him over the heads in their way. He started to take a step forward but Blaise grabbed his arm and pulled him back. He opened his mouth to yell at Blaise for stopping him, but was immediately cut off.

"No time! Find him later, now grab hold," he commanded and indicated the worn book being held by a man Draco didn't know. No sooner than he laid a hand on the book, he was pulled along with the others into the generally unpleasant sensation of portkey travel. As they landed, he took an idle moment to realize there really was no truly comfortable way to travel quickly, before he was swept away with the crowd heading for a large pavilion set up nearby. It was then he realized they had landed not at Hogwarts, as he had expected, but in nearby Hogsmeade. Since there was really no hope of finding anyone at the moment, Draco simply allowed himself to be pulled along with Pansy and Blaise to a raised platform where McGonagall was standing, with most of the Hogwarts staff, and the Minister of Magic nearby.

"Welcome back, students," McGonagall started, opening her arms in a gesture that reminded many of Dumbledore. "And welcome all who have decided to join us. Recent graduates, the other staff and I have arranged this gathering to honor the many hardships you faced during your time at Hogwarts. But as the war was not limited to just the school, we made this an open celebration for everyone, and a chance for the people to show their appreciation for those who have made this wonderful time of peace possible."

"You were right," Draco muttered to Pansy, sounding as if he had expected it anyway.

"Funny though, how she says 'those.' As if no one knew who killed the Dark Lord."

"Well there _were_ more people involved than just me and Harry," Draco responded, having fully tuned out whatever McGonagall was going on about now.

"Oh right, some sort of Order?" Pansy replied, sounding as if she didn't really care about it at all. Draco just nodded in response.

"Even so," Blaise cut in, "Potter is the poster boy. The minister likes to focus on him because he's become a symbol. So more help or not, you know he'll always be the brunt of the attention and praise."

Draco thought Blaise might've sounded resentful about that, but he wasn't focusing completely as his eyes once again moved over the throng of people. Perhaps he and Harry could find somewhere less crowded, but he had a feeling Harry wouldn't want to hide away from all of his friends. But before he could find his target, another familiar face appeared before him.

"Hello Draco."

Draco raised a brow, and immediately his demeanor changed to the cold Slytherin that many had grown used to during their school years. "Nott," he replied, tilting his head so that he was looking down at the approaching boy.

"Oh come now, is that any way to greet a friend?" Nott tried, giving only the slightest of smiles.

His second brow moved to join the first to show Draco's surprise. "Friend?" he echoed. "You've a very twisted view of friendship, if you think that."

Nott sighed and changed his stance, looking shamed, and apologetic. "Look, I know I said some…less than kind things–" Draco snorted in contempt at that understatement. " – but we all make mistakes, right? Come on, I'll buy everyone drinks to make up for it."

Draco's eyes narrowed as he scrutinized the boy in front of him. Of all the comments and disdain he and Harry had received, Nott's had by far been the worst. Pansy and Blaise stepped up next to him, and he waited to see what they had to say.

"You can't have changed your opinion that much, just like that," Pansy said suspiciously, hands on her hips in a gesture they were all very familiar with. It was a pose that said 'tell me the truth or you'll be in for it.'

"Why ever not? You and Blaise did the same thing, did you not?"

Thrown off by that, Pansy lowered her hands, and tilter her head to the side in thought. "What is that supposed to mean?" she asked, more as a defense than from actual confusion.

Blaise spoke up next. "That was different," he decided, and Draco sent him a bemused glance. Really, he had expected something a little more tactical than that.

"How so, Blaise?" Draco asked, sounding humored even as a warning crept into his tone. "If I recall, you and Pansy labeled me as a traitor when I made my intentions known."

Blaise faltered for a moment, but recovered quickly. "Draco, you know as well as I do that that was a very delicate situation. We were in a war! And we couldn't all just leave like that. Your decision was made easy when you were forced to run."

A look of cool disbelief passed over Draco's features. "Easy? Yes, because running from a deranged madman and constantly worrying about your family is _such_ a simple life."

"What are you complaining about? You had the '_savior_' protecting you: what sort of danger could you have been in?"

"Are you kidding?" Draco countered, his tone taking on a slight defensive edge. "Harry's always in danger! Being with him did not mean that I was suddenly home free."

"You mean _was_." Pansy cut in softly.

"What?" Draco asked, slightly thrown off by the random statement.

"You said Potter's always in danger, but you mean was."

Draco rolled his eyes in response. "Right…_was_…my point is that I wasn't really any safer just because I was with him."

"No, you were safer because you were fucking him," Blaise muttered.

Draco's eyes flashed and he frowned at Blaise. "What was that?"

"Oh come on, you know it's true."

"It is not! He protected me even when we were still enemies." He decided to leave out the fact that Harry mostly kept him safe in his home out of curiosity, at first.

"I think he's just always had a thing for you," Blaise snorted before continuing. "Don't you think, if someone offered us security like that, we would have accepted?"

Draco looked to Pansy for help, but received none when she simply shrugged. "What are you on about?" he asked, turning back to Blaise. "You made it very clear what side you were on."

"Yeah, because I didn't want to get myself killed!" Blaise cried. "I _wanted_ to be neutral, but with my family that, of course, wasn't an option. If I could've been assured protection like that, things might have been different."

Draco briefly wondered how this conversation had gotten so out of hand before he responded. "I didn't know I was going to be protected. I failed a task and I ran; it was only because of Severus that I managed to fall into Harry's hands in the first place."

Nott, who had fallen into the background up to this point, decided to step in before the boys started a shouting match in the middle of the pavilion. "Right then! What do you say to those drinks? Let's go to Madame Rosmerta's." He put one hand on Pansy's shoulder, and reached out to Draco with the other one, but immediately switched to set it on Blaise's shoulder when Draco sneered at him.

He didn't want to get drinks, really. In fact, after that argument, and being reminded of all that had happened over the past year, Draco was really ready to just find Harry and go back home. But out of very skeptical curiosity, Draco followed, vowing to find Harry as soon as he figured out what was going on with Nott. He glared at the boy's back, and Blaise's words rang strongly in his head. And great, now he was getting that feeling of foreboding as well. So with a deep sigh, Draco steeled his expression, and followed the other three former Slytherins into Rosmerta's, preparing to question Nott until he revealed every single thought, or plot, in his head.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

A/N: So…I didn't intend to end it there, really, but it would've gone on forever if I hadn't. Besides that, it gives me a good place to start on the next one. I kept hitting snags when writing this that made me put it down and come back later, so I hope things were up to standard, and next chapter should move into the main intended plot of the story. As always, tell me your thoughts!


	3. Children Aren't Cats

**A/N:** So it would seem I lost some of you with that last chapter, lol. (:Compares 27 reviews of first chap to 8 reviews of second:) Ha, admittedly though, I'da lost myself if I didn't have the later plot to keep me going. Hope you guys enjoy this one a little more.

Beta'ed by **13thMoonWitch**, of course. All weird stuff left is there because I want it to be. So a big thanks, and now to the story!

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**Chapter 3: Children Aren't Cats**

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"Harry!"

Harry turned with a smile as he heard the calls of his two best friends. He barely got out a greeting in return before he was nearly barreled over by the girl of their group. "Oof! Hermione," Harry laughed, "it hasn't been that long since we've seen each other."

"Oh I know, Harry," Hermione said as she pulled away. "It's just that, getting out of school, and you moving in with Draco made me realize that we don't have just our group anymore, you know?"

"Speaking of Malfoy," Ron cut in, looking around the area the portkey had taken them, "where is ferret-face?"

"Ron!" Hermione admonished with a light backhand to his stomach.

Harry chuckled and placed a hand on her shoulder. "Don't worry about it, Hermione. I don't think either one of them is going to give it up."

"Boys," Hermione muttered with a roll of her eyes, but she conceded anyway. Somehow that did not surprise her.

"But, good question, Ron," Harry said as he looked around the area for a familiar head of blonde hair. "Last time I saw him, he was off talking to Zabini and Parkinson."

"Really? I thought he broke ties with them," Hermione said thoughtfully.

Harry shrugged, glancing back at the girl for a moment. "I think it was a lot of complications from the war that drove them so far apart in the first place. He's probably reacquainting with old friends, now that they can do so without the pressures of sides, and life-or-death family ties."

"That's very insightful of you, Harry," Hermione said, sounding surprised despite herself.

Harry gave her a deadpan stare, but let it pass. "Well when you live with someone, you start to learn a few things about them."

"Why would you wanna know so much about him?" Ron muttered, before looking up in surprise. "Oh look, McGonagall's giving a speech."

"Guess we should go and at least pretend to pay attention," Harry said, smirking slightly at Ron.

Ron grinned in reply. "Just like we always have, eh?" he replied, and they joined the large group gathering around the staff. Hermione rolled her eyes, musing that her boys would never change.

Harry, Ron and Hermione joined in with a gathering group of Gryffindors, chattering away, but quieting as McGonagall began speaking. They all listened to the speech with half an ear, as it was really a speech to be expected at such an event. And when McGonagall had finished, Ron started tugging on Harry and Hermione's arms. "Come on, let's go get a butterbeer!"

Harry laughed, allowing himself to be pulled, until a statement from the minister made him pause.

"Now, where is our guest of honor?" Scrimgeour called over the crowd.

Harry groaned and rolled his eyes. There _was_ no guest of honor for this thing! It was supposed to be a celebration for everyone, after all. There was a pause as the man searched the crowd, but unfortunately for Harry, he was spotted before he could make an escape. "Ah! There! Harry Potter, would you step up here for a moment, please?"

Harry sent a desperate look to his friends, but they could only shrug helplessly. So with great reluctance, Harry slowly turned and trudged towards the stage. The crowd parted as he went, some whispering to each other, while others called out to him, and some even reached out to pat him on the back.

When he finally made it to the temporary stage, Scrimgeour grinned and leant Harry a helping hand. "There you are, m'boy," Harry frowned, not liking to hear that name from this man. "We've all got something very special for you today," he said with a wink. Then he raised his voice to the crowd before him. "Thank you all for coming, friends, to this celebration of life, and of moving on! Now I won't take up too much of your time here, I just wanted to assure that we were all able to show our appreciation to the boy that made this all possible for us." Harry rolled his eyes, and only half paid attention as his eyes roamed over the crowd, hoping to at least find something good in the situation, and catch sight of Draco now that he had a better view. When he didn't find him, Harry guessed he must have gone off to visit with his friends for a while longer, and decided to just meet up with him later. He was distracted anyway with the minister's next words.

"And so, it is my pleasure, to present Mr. Potter with the Order of Merlin, First Class!"

Harry's attention snapped to Scrimgeour, and his jaw dropped slightly in surprise as the man pulled the medal from his robes. He could say nothing as Scrimgeour beamed at him, and pinned the extravagant award to his chest.

And as he glanced at the crowd, now in a joyous uproar at being reminded once again of their new freedom, he had never felt more like a trophy than at that moment. It wasn't that he had no pride for what he had done, but he didn't like being showcased like this. But an Order of Merlin! As he looked down at the medal, he couldn't help being reminded of Dumbledore, and he reached up to touch it, almost reverently. He scanned the crowd again, searching again for Draco. Of course he had no luck, and instead found Ron and Hermione, who looked as if they wanted to do something, but weren't sure what to do.

With no easy escape from this rather emotionally stressful moment found, Harry looked back over at Scrimgeour, and grudgingly admitted to himself that he had to admire the man's persistence at least. The last time he had seen the minister was in McGonagall's office, and that time he'd basically snubbed them both and walked out. But now the man had him trapped. And then his hand was being shaken enthusiastically while the man asked, "Harry, dear boy, won't you show us a bit of those wonderful powers that saved us all?"

It was on the tip of his tongue to say 'no, I'm not a circus sideshow, thank you very much,' but then he shut his mouth immediately. He'd just been handed free reign on how he wanted to escape. So with a smile very reminiscent of a certain Slytherin's smirk, he agreed, and turned to the quieting crowd. He didn't really want to show off, or have everyone know his powers. He wasn't even sure why, but it felt like a distinct invasion of something private. The last mass that had seen what he could do had been obliviated, but he didn't want to do that now. So he pulled his wand from his pocket, and waved it over the crowd, causing a butterbeer to appear before each person. "Drinks for everyone, now let's get on with the party, shall we?" he shouted, and there was an uproar of excitement as everyone began finding friends, and moving off to explore new stands set up, and even games that were around. Harry turned, winked at Scrimgeour, nodded to McGonagall, and hopped off the stage.

He started to head towards his friends, but in his haste to get away, he hadn't anticipated the difficulty of getting through the crowd. He tried to push through, but eventually decided to wait until it had cleared out a bit, and stood off to the side.

"Harry! Harry!!"

Harry turned his head as a feminine voice called out his name, and he saw a girl that looked as if she might have been thirteen or fourteen running towards him and waving. She was followed by a few others, one that was holding a camera and immediately reminded Harry of Colin Creevey just by the look on her face. Harry swallowed nervously, a bit unsettled by the star-struck looks the girls gave him as they stopped before him. But he smiled politely anyway as the girl at the front looked around as if searching for something.

"Oh goody, he's not here! It worked, it worked!" she said excitedly, turning to both Harry and her friends.

Harry raised a brow and said, "Excuse me, but…what worked?"

Suddenly she grabbed one of his hands in both of hers in a near iron grip. "The spell! I just knew that Malfoy guy had you under a curse, so I sent you a letter with a spell to get rid of whatever he was using to control you and it worked! Now we can be together!" she cooed, and pressed against him.

Feeling distinctly uncomfortable, Harry stepped backwards, and searched the clearing area for Ron and Hermione, wondering why they seemed to have completely disappeared. "Um, I'm sorry, but, you've got it all wrong," Harry said, trying to pry his hand from her grip. "Draco and I are still together…there was never any curse."

The girl jerked his hand, causing Harry to stumble forward a step, and he scowled at her hands. What was with this girl? "But I would be so much better for you!"

Harry sighed, bringing his other hand up to rub the bridge of his nose. "I'm quite happy as I am, thank you very much," he said, a sharp edge leaking into his voice. He really didn't have the patience to deal with this right now. He faintly heard a clicking camera, and groaned as he realized that the girl with the camera was taking quite a few pictures.

"Oh won't you just give me a chance, Harry? I know you're not happy with him. I mean, look! He left you already at this party! I would never leave you, Harry."

Having decided that was enough, Harry growled and said, "Don't speak as if you know me!" He sent a shock of magic through his fingers, and the girl yelped and let go. As soon as his hand was free, Harry turned on his heel and apparated away, hoping he never ran into her again.

When Harry calmed enough to look around him, he blinked in surprise. His destination had been The Three Broomsticks, but now he was standing in a deserted alley somewhere in the outskirts of Hogsmeade. Scratching his head in confusion, he wondered how that could have happened. He remembered the three D's of apparition, and he was pretty sure that 'Detour' was not one of them. In a sudden rush of panic, he looked down, checking to see if he had somehow managed to splinch himself. And wouldn't that just be ironic? To be able to get through most any wards, but botch up a simple outside apparition. But no, he was completely whole and unharmed. So with a careless shrug, he decided to call it a fluke, and started to walk back to the main streets.

But just as he turned, his ears caught a strange sound from the other end of the alley, something that sounded like crying. Giving in to his natural curiosity, Harry walked cautiously toward the noise, until he turned the corner, and came upon a young girl, curled into a ball and sniffling quietly.

He stopped for a moment, not knowing quite what to do. He looked around for the girl's parents, or friends, or something, but there was no sign of anyone. Slowly, Harry stepped forward and crouched in front of the girl, ignoring as dirt gathered on his robes. "Hey there," he said softly.

The girl jumped, and looked up with wide, startled eyes at the voice.

Harry smiled, hoping to calm her somewhat. Saying the first thing that came to mind, he asked, "What are you doing out here?"

The young girl's lower lip trembled, and Harry's heart went out to her desperate expression. She couldn't be more than five or six, and she was very cute with dark colored, but bright eyes, and wavy jet-black hair. "Mamma left me…" she said finally in a very small voice, and Harry blanched at the words.

"Did she say when she would be back?" Harry asked awkwardly. The girl shook her head. After a few moments, he tried again, "Did you get lost?" Surely that had to be it. He stood up and offered his hand down to the girl. "Come on, I'll help you find her."

The girl sniffed again and looked up, and he thought he saw something in her eyes when she saw his forehead. "Harry Potter! She said Harry Potter would help me!" She jumped up and ran to him, throwing her arms around his thighs where she could reach. "She said don't worry because Harry Potter would keep me safe."

Harry blinked at the strange words, and laid his hand on her head. "Keep you safe from what, sweety?" he asked, wondering who this girl's mother was, and what he had to do with anything.

She shrugged and looked up at him. "She said," and her face turned very serious now, "'The time has come…Harry Potter must take care of you now.' That's what she said." She frowned, and her hands gripped Harry's robes tightly.

"But…why does she think I can take care of you?" Harry said, more to himself as he laid a hand on the girl's shoulder, and looked once more around the alley. Bringing his attention back to the girl now clinging to him, he asked as kindly as he could, "What's your name?"

"Sara," she answered immediately.

"Sara what?"

"What?"

Harry chuckled. "Your last name. What is it?"

Sara looked confused for a moment, as if trying to remember something. Then suddenly her face cleared, and she grinned up at him. "Potter!"

Harry blinked, and now it was his turn to look confused. "Really?" he asked. He supposed there were other people out there with the last name Potter…but it still seemed strange.

"I like you. So it's Potter!"

A crooked smile worked its way across Harry's lips, despite his best efforts to stop it. He did wonder, though, about how quickly she seemed to get over being separated from her mother, when she was crying about it just moments before. "Well I'm flattered, but I think we need to find your mother, now."

"No!"

Harry nearly jumped at the girl's exclamation, and looked down in surprise. "You don't want to find her?"

Sara buried her face in Harry's stomach and shook her head. "She said to be a good girl and let Harry Potter take care of her. She said it will be bad if I go back."

Harry, now more curious than ever, crouched down again and placed his hands on her shoulders. "And why would that be bad, Sara?" he asked seriously.

Sara looked left and right, before leaning in close to whisper, "Because bad things will happen."

Blinking at the answer, Harry couldn't help but be disappointed. He could've figured that out for himself. He tried another question. "What is your mother's name?"

"Mamma."

"Yes."

They both stood in silence for a moment, before Harry realized that had actually been her answer, and he smacked his forehead in slight frustration. This was going nowhere fast.

Sara giggled at the action, and Harry looked up to see her smiling hopefully at him, and he sighed heavily. Well he couldn't just leave her out here alone. Maybe he could take her to McGonagall. "Well then what do you say we go join the party?" Harry asked her, and she immediately brightened.

"Okay!" she cried, and ran around to jump onto his back.

Harry grunted at the sudden weight thrown at his back, but rolled his eyes and stood anyway. It wasn't as if she was actually heavy, after all. So with Sara hanging on, Harry walked in the direction where the noise of the main streets was coming from, until he could see a bunch of people milling about. He caught sight of the girls he'd run from earlier and groaned, before whispering a spell, and a disillusionment charm was cast over him and Sara.

Now that he wouldn't be distracted, Harry started making his way towards the stage, but he soon realized the headmistress was nowhere to be seen. Groaning softly, he began searching for her, but of course, had no luck. Thinking for a moment, he decided to search for her magical signature, but as soon as he closed his eyes, he was assaulted by so many that it was overwhelming, and he immediately pulled back.

A light tug at his hair distracted him for a moment, as Sara started playing with a few misplaced strands. _'Not like she can mess it up anymore,'_ he idly thought to himself as he tried to figure out a plan of action. The next people he thought of were Ron and Hermione, but after a bit of thought, he decided not to. Ron would probably laugh at him before asking Hermione what they should do, and then Hermione would have him take her to an orphanage or something. And frankly, he didn't really want to do that. Not when he thought of himself, and then thought of a young Tom Riddle in the orphanage. No, he would just take her home…to Draco's home. He cringed slightly, hoping that Draco would be in a good mood when he finished visiting with his friends and found Harry had gone home.

- - - - - - - - -

Draco hid a yawn behind his hand, and glanced discreetly out the window, wondering if it would be terribly rude if he just stood up now and left. After questioning Nott, and only managing to follow the conversation as it was driven in circles, he was really ready to get out of here.

He had not really been able to get a straight answer out of Nott, just a bunch of excuses about family values, and wrongful opinions, and apologies that sounded so nonchalant they made Draco bristle with irritation. And now he was no more inclined to forgive the boy than he had been before. He glared down at his untouched bottle of firewhiskey, while mulling over Nott's behavior. He just couldn't believe he had changed such a sound opinion so completely, and just like that. But Blaise and Pansy seemed to have less doubts, and now he wondered if he was just being paranoid. '_That's it, I'm getting out of here._'

Abruptly, Draco stood, not caring anymore whether it was rude or not. "Well, it's been fun," he said, not sounding as if he'd really had any fun at all. "Blaise, Pansy," he gave them each a nod, "I suppose I'll see you around eventually. Nott…" he scrutinized the boy for a few moments, before turning around and walking away. He didn't feel like analyzing Nott's weird behavior right now. In fact, now sounded like a good time to find Harry, and see what sort of trouble he'd managed to find in the hour Draco was gone.

The only problem was, he couldn't find Harry. He looked in all the shops he thought the Gryffindor might visit, and even some he thought he wouldn't. He did, however, manage to find his two best friends, and he stopped them as they walked out of Florean Fortesque's. Hermione greeted him, and he gave her a distracted wave before he asked, "Hey, have you two seen Harry?"

Hermione blinked, and Ron took a bite of ice cream before answering. "We thought he was with you." Draco groaned in annoyance, and Ron shrugged, glancing around the crowd. "Maybe he's just hiding from everyone. He's bound to be swamped by fans after receiving that Order of Merlin."

Draco looked up, surprised. "He got an Order of Merlin?"

"You didn't see it?" Hermione asked.

Draco shook his head, now more annoyed at Nott than before. He'd missed his boyfriend getting one of _the _most_ highly regarded awards_ the wizarding world had to offer! "Suppose he could be off hiding somewhere…" he agreed, but he really didn't think so. He would have at least let one of them know first…or something. "Wasn't he supposed to be with you?"

"He was," Hermione answered, looking contemplative. "But as he was walking towards us, he was stopped by a few fangirls of his, and he just apparated away. That was when we thought he went to find you."

Draco frowned, trying to figure out where Harry might have gone. He didn't have long to think about it, though, before a silver stag came bounding up to him, attracting quite a bit of attention as it went. Draco felt a jolt of fear as he wondered if Harry really had gotten into trouble somehow, and waited for the patronus to relay its message.

"Draco," it whispered to him in Harry's voice, "Sorry I had to leave the thing so early, and I didn't think to let you know because you were busy. So…I'm back home, and um…don't be too mad when you get here?"

The message cut off after that, and the stag nuzzled Draco's hair before disappearing, leaving Draco to frown at the spot where it had been. He knew, somehow, that when Harry asked him not to be mad, it wasn't just because he'd gone home early. He knew Draco better than that.

"What did he say?" Hermione asked, and Draco's attention snapped back to the present.

"He said he went home," Draco answered, and looked at the two of them questioningly. "Did he mention anything to you two about leaving so early?"

They both shook their heads. "No, we were going to make a stop at Honeydukes first thing," Ron said, starting to look a little worried. "He's okay, isn't he?"

"Sounded like it, but I'm going to go home and see what's going on anyway."

"Let us know?" Hermione asked quickly as Draco prepared to disapparate. He nodded once and turned on his heel, disappearing with a pop.

When he arrived back at the manor, he looked around, wondering at how quiet the place seemed. Of course, that wasn't such an unusual thing in such a large building, but Harry's presence did always seem to liven up the house, no matter what room he was in. "Harry?" he called out, but received no answer. Frowning, he wondered where Harry was, and called upon his connection to the manor's wards to let him see his boyfriend's location. "Well that explains the empty house," Draco muttered to himself as he found out Harry was in the gardens in the back.

Now curious, Draco worked his way through the manor, and to the large glass doors that led to the rear grounds. He stopped with the door halfway open, though, when he hear laughter from the other side. And it wasn't Harry's. But there were no little kids that lived around here. Moreover, there was no reason whatsoever for a child to be in his house at all.

A soft growl followed the laughter, and Draco opened the door wider, startled for only a moment before he recognized Harry's animagus form, currently entertaining a young girl by allowing her to sit on his back as he walked around. Then Harry's ear twitched, and his head swiveled to Draco, a grin spreading over the tiger's mouth. He crouched down, allowing the girl to climb off of him, and trotted over to Draco.

Draco allowed a smile as Harry butted his head against his stomach, and he scratched behind the large animal's ears. And then Harry suddenly morphed back, engulfing Draco in a hug and kissing his jaw affectionately. "Welcome home?" he said, voice tilting upwards at the end and sounding very unsure. And suddenly Draco remembered that there was something not quite normal here.

Pulling back, and keeping a firm grip on Harry's forearms as the boy started leaning in again, he asked slowly, "Harry, why do we suddenly have a child?"

Harry looked back at the girl, then back at Draco, and flashed him a charming grin. "She followed me home. Can I keep her?"

Draco's deadpan stare showed he was not to be so easily persuaded. "You picked a girl up off the streets and brought her home? Just like that?" Suddenly his calm voice faltered, and his arms flung to the side in emphasis. "Harry, have you gone mad?!"

Harry winced slightly, and looked back at Sara, who was playing with Noah, but watching them cautiously. "Draco," Harry whispered, placing his hands against Draco's chest and subtly trying to push him backwards, but Draco was having none of it.

"Who is she? Where did she come from? What about her parents? Harry, you don't just find children and keep them!"

"You kept the cat," he added simply.

Draco stopped and blinked for a moment, before a strange sort of laugh bubbled from his throat. "Harry…it's a _cat_. That is entirely different!"

Harry opened his mouth to respond, but closed it in surprise when a light force ran into him from behind, and small arms wrapped around his hips, and Sara's hands gripped his shirt at his stomach. He looked down curiously, and saw the young girl's face was distorted into a timid glare. "Don't yell at Harry Potter!" she cried, and ducked behind Harry so that she was just peaking out from behind his back. "Harry Potter's a nice person, don't yell at him," she repeated, pouting at Draco with large eyes.

The slightly confused, mildly affronted, and very much questioning look Draco sent him almost made Harry laugh. He shrugged, and laid his hand on the girl's head in a placating way. "It's alright, Sara," he said as he pulled her hands from his stomach and moved her to stand beside him. "I want you to meet my boyfriend, Draco Malfoy. Draco, this is Sara."

Deciding it would be easier for now to play along, Draco smiled and offered his hand. "Hello there," he said politely. "How do you do?"

Sara studied him for a moment with a contemplative frown, then she made a small noise of disapproval and crossed her arms. Harry sighed, and crouched down to whisper to her, "Be nice, now. This is Draco's house, and he's a very special person to me; and right now I need to talk to him. Why don't you take Noah with you, and go ask one of the house elves to make you a snack, hm?"

She seemed to think about it for a moment, before nodding. She picked up Noah and walked back inside, closing the door to a very awkward silence behind her.

Draco's hand fell to his side, and he tried not to think of the reflection of his first year, offering his hand to Harry and being shunned in the same way. "She took my cat," he muttered after a moment.

Harry chuckled softly. "Sorry love, I needed something to keep her distracted."

Draco's stance suddenly changed, and he looked at Harry with slight suspicion. "Good idea. Explain," he said simply, sounding so much like his old Malfoy self that Harry swallowed convulsively.

Gently, Harry reached for Draco's hand, and when the other didn't pull back, he entwined their fingers. Then he gave a light tug, indicating Draco to follow him as he started walking aimlessly through the manor's gardens.

They walked a few moments in silence, until Harry could almost feel Draco ready to burst with questions. "Well…I wasn't lying when I said I found her," he started, shoving his free hand into his pocket, and fiddling absently with the wand that rested there out of habit.

"And you don't find that the least bit odd?" Draco asked, managing to sound condescending without even trying.

Harry frowned, shifting his gaze to the ground in front of him. "Of course I do," he replied, sounding offended. Then he launched into the story of exactly what happened, starting with the fangirls and the misguided apparition attempt.

By the time he had finished, they had reached a small grove of trees, and Draco sat them down in the clearing, pleasantly cool from the shade of the leaves. They sat across from each other, cross-legged, and Harry played with Draco's fingers to avoid looking at him.

"So let me get this straight," Draco started, sounding somehow annoyed, amused, and curious at the same time. "You were thrown off your apparition destination?"

"Yes."

"This from the boy that apparated through the wards of Hogwarts."

"Yes."

"I didn't think tampering with apparition was possible without side-along…or maybe a portkey." Draco's brow furrowed as he pondered the situation, and tried to figure out what had happened. Harry smiled slightly, lightly massaging the hand he held in his. He loved watching his boyfriend when he was working something out in his head, and watching that determined glint come into his eye.

But soon enough, Draco shook his head, and moved onto his next question. "And she told you her mother abandoned her, and told her to look for you?"

"For some reason, yes."

Draco's eyes narrowed, and he turned his hands so that Harry's were now gripped in his. "There's no way she could have expected you to find the girl in an old alleyway without direct intervention." Draco's grey eyes snapped to Harry's face, and Harry was surprised to see agitated worry in them. "I don't like this, Harry. Something doesn't feel right about it…there's not enough explanation."

Harry sighed, having known beforehand that Draco would most likely not approve, but he wouldn't – couldn't – relent. Sara was depending on him. "She was a defenseless child left out on the streets, Draco. When I found her, she was just sitting there…crying because her mother left her. Just _left_ her! How could anyone do that to their own child?" His voice grew louder toward the end, and Draco could hear the echoes of a similarly neglected child in the pleading tones.

Sighing, Draco reached out for Harry's arms, pulling until Harry sat comfortably in his lap, back to chest. He rested his cheek against the black nest of hair, high enough so that his lips were above Harry's ear, and he spoke softly. "Because not everyone is like you, Harry." He chuckled sardonically, tightening his arms around Harry's waist. "It's actually quite amazing, that you've been face to face with some of the darkest pieces of the world, and still manage to see things the way you do."

"As long as there is hope…" Harry mumbled, staring off into the distance. He dropped his head back onto Draco's shoulder and sighed.

Draco swallowed at the suddenly very enticing picture Harry created, and had to force himself not to be distracted. After all, they were having a rather serious discussion about Harry's recent acquisition of a child. "It's also interesting," Draco started, twining one of his hands with Harry's, "how you can change your stance so completely on something if your help is needed."

Harry's brow furrowed, and he turned his head towards Draco curiously. "What do you mean?"

"At Christmas, when the…issue…came up." Draco berated himself for a lack of better words, but he was still hesitant to talk about his tantrum, as he liked to call it, that December. "You told me that the idea of having children scared you; that you weren't ready."

Harry was silent for so long, Draco wondered if he'd decided to just drop the conversation. But then he gave a barely audible sigh, and his hand came up to fiddle with the tag hanging from Draco's collar. Harry smiled softly at the fact that Draco wore it shamelessly in public, before turning his thoughts to the current conversation again. "I'm not," he finally answered. "But Draco, you should have seen her…she was just sitting against that building, crying, because she'd been left completely alone and told she wasn't wanted anymore. Do you know what it feels like, to be told you aren't wanted by the ones who are supposed to love you?"

Draco bit his lip, unconsciously tightening his hold on the boy in his lap. He knew Harry knew the answer to that…Draco had told him before how his father used to be a better man. No, Draco didn't know what that was like. But he was familiar with betrayal by ones who loved him, which he figured was very close to the same thing anyway. Turning his head to the side, Draco pressed a kiss against Harry's neck, resting there as he took a moment to curse both of their childhood lives.

When Draco finally answered, he spoke slowly, thinking over his words as he said them, knowing that things of the past were still a bit of a sore spot for the both of them. "Harry…we've both suffered…many people have, and many yet will. It's an unfortunate part of life."

"Draco, she's barely elementary age," Harry cut in suddenly, turning at the same time so that he sat sideways in Draco's lap. He rested his head against the blonde's collarbone, listening to his heartbeat, and he felt nimble fingers reaching up to play with his hair.

"You know as well as I that children are just as susceptible to a hard life as any other aged person. My point is…you can't save everyone. You've already done the world a huge favor, and saved many lives by getting rid of that maniacal madman that called himself a wizard." He reached up and ran his fingers over the Order of Merlin pinned proudly to Harry's chest, taking true notice of it for the first time. "Then again, you don't think the same way I do, either." At Harry's bemused expression, he tried to explain. "I can understand that you empathize with her, and want to protect her from the sort of childhood you had, but Harry, don't you think you should let someone more capable of such a thing handle the situation? Why didn't you go to McGonagall, or one of the other professors?"

"I did…" Harry mumbled, biting his lip nervously. "I mean, I tried to find her, but I couldn't, and then I thought that, they would just take her to an orphanage, and I just couldn't do it. Voldemort grew up in an orphanage, you know."

Sighing softly, Draco responded, "And he's one of how many? Harry, an orphanage creates evil overlords in the same way Slytherin creates dark wizards."

Harry looked up in surprise, smiling guiltily at Draco's set expression as the blonde continued. "He was evil from the start, and stayed that way to the end. That was his choice."

Harry fell into a contemplative silence, and when he spoke again, his voice was quiet. "I feel like…like I have a connection with her, somehow. I don't know how to describe it, but I just _can't_ leave her off at an orphanage somewhere. There has to be a reason she was told to find me."

"Or that you found her," Draco responded, but without much conviction behind it. Harry already had his stance on the situation, and Draco didn't want to start a huge fight by arguing otherwise. Maybe if he let Harry see that taking care of a child was too much right now, he would come around on his own. "Alright," he finally conceded, pressing a kiss to the top of Harry's head. "But she's your responsibility." He paused for a moment before adding, "And Noah is still mine."

Chuckling at Draco's possessiveness of the cat, and relieved by his decision to be supportive, Harry lifted his head and kissed Draco full on the lips. "Thank you," he whispered as he pulled away, nipping at Draco's bottom lip. "So now that we've discussed how my day of fun went awry as usual…how was your time with the other Slytherins?"

Draco raised an eyebrow at Harry's description of his day, but said nothing about it. "You'll never guess who came to visit."

"Who?"

"Theodore Nott."

Harry's eyebrows shot into his hairline, before his expression turned into an irritated scowl. "What did he want?"

"To apologize, apparently," Draco answered, allowing his own doubt on the situation to show in his voice.

Harry's scowl turned into more of a glower now. "After all the things he said? I don't think so."

Draco shrugged, running his hand over Harry's back as he felt the boy tense up. "Relax, Harry. He joined me, Blaise and Pansy for drinks – bought us drinks, actually – and spent an hour both apologizing and making small talk. I tried to figure out what was off about him, but I couldn't quite place it. I still don't believe the apologies, but it was easier to go along than to start another fight over everything, so I stayed and listened, and escaped when it got too boring. When I was looking for you, I ran into Granger and Weasley, and that was about the time your patronus found me. Oh, they want to know how you're doing, by the way. You had us all quite worried when you disappeared like that."

A light blush covered Harry's cheeks, and he mumbled unintelligibly as he found an interesting rock near Draco's knee. "I can take care of myself, you know…"

Draco chuckled and squeezed Harry in a tight hug, a playful gesture. "I know, love." They sat in silent contentment for a while before Draco remembered there was now an unattended child in his house. "Harry…what about the girl?"

"Sara?" Harry asked, more to remind Draco of the name than to ask whom he was talking about. "I asked the house elves to take care of her."

"Oh," Draco answered intelligently, wondering at how quickly Harry had gained command of them. The Malfoy house elves were always ordered to stay out of the way as much as possible, so sometimes he forgot about their presence until he needed them. But of course Harry would think of them…it was just in his nature to try and include everyone and everything. Then Draco smirked, and nipped at Harry's ear. "Already getting a sitter?"

Harry scowled playfully, and nudged Draco's chin with his fist. Then in a sudden move, he pushed at Draco's shoulders until the taller boy was lying flat on his back, and Harry moved to cover him completely, grinning at the surprise on his boyfriend's face. He leaned in close to Draco's ear and whispered, "Would you rather her be here now?" He ground his hips into Draco's for emphasis, and the boy groaned.

"No, no I wouldn't," Draco managed, fisting his hand in Harry's shirt and pulling him down for a kiss.

Harry smiled before giving in, keeping in his mind to pay a visit to Ron and Hermione later, and trying not to imagine the lecture he would receive from Hermione, and also trying not the think of the full implications of the situation he had just created for himself.

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	4. Just an Accident

Woke up this morning and realized I forgot to fix the repeat line fanfiction always puts on the top of the chapters! And this:

Betad, of course, by the wonderful 13thMoonWitch. What would I do without the never-ending arguments of native vs. learned English? :)

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**Chapter 4: Just an Accident**

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"Okay, so run this by me again," Hermione stated, sounding as if she was trying very hard to come up with something plausible, reasonable, other than the obvious situation at hand.

She, Ron and Harry were all sitting in Ron's room at the Burrow, discussing life in general, but more importantly, recent and much more specific events.

"Hermione," Ron groaned, "he's explained it three times already!"

"And it's still not making sense!" the girl replied.

"What doesn't make sense about it?" Harry asked, hiding an amused smirk at how obviously hard she was trying not to start in on the lecture he knew was coming.

"That you would do that!" she cried, throwing her arms up in the air. And there goes her restraint. She jumped from her position, and paced in front of the bed the boys were sitting on. "Harry, you do realize that when people find children…they don't just _keep_ them. I know you know how it works in the muggle world, and it's no different in the wizarding world! Seriously Harry, a _child_? What could you have possibly been thinking? You can't just take her home and raise her like that! There's complications…legal issues…adoption requirements…"

Harry sent a helpless glance towards Ron, who shrugged just as helplessly back. Hermione had gone into less of a rant at Harry now, and more into a self-directed lecture about legal issues that Harry really couldn't care less about.

Suddenly Hermione turned and looked directly at Harry. "Where is she now?"

Faltering slightly at the sudden question, which sounded a bit like a hidden accusation to Harry, he took a moment to remember. "Draco agreed to watch over her," he said, deciding not to mention that it was really the house elves he left her with, while Draco agreed to let Harry talk with his friends. He knew Draco would help though.

"So you kidnap a girl, then leave her with Draco?" Hermione asked, with an eyebrow raised.

It took a few moments before Harry was able to close his jaw and answer her. "Kidnap? Did you…did you seriously just call me a kidnapper?"

"What would you call it?" Hermione responded calmly.

"Helping!" Harry cried. Why could no one seem to understand that? Sara had been abandoned, distressed, left alone, and now Harry was her only hope. "She was sent to me, Hermione, helpless and alone. What was I supposed to do?" He locked gazes with Hermione, then, and saw something change in her light brown eyes.

There was a stretch of silence before Hermione looked away and muttered, "I hate it when you look like that."

Harry exchanged slightly confused glances with Ron. "Like what?" he asked her, quite curious as to what she meant.

Hermione stared out the window, and she sighed her defeat as she answered. "Like a kicked puppy," she stated. "I just can't argue with you."

Ron snorted, and Harry glared at him. "Puppy…" he mumbled under his breath, obviously trying very hard not to burst into laughter.

Hermione, ignoring Ron for now, flopped down heavily on the bed opposite the two boys, causing the old springs to creak under the sudden weight. She ran a hand through her hair, before looking at Harry again. "I can't tell you what to do, Harry, but just…be careful, okay? She's a human child, and I just don't want you getting in over your head, here."

A crooked smile worked its way onto Harry's face. "I know, Hermione," he said gently, his voice expressing his appreciation for the girl's concern, even if his words did not. "Don't worry about me…I'll be okay."

She sighed, and then smiled back. "You always are, aren't you?"

The atmosphere around them lightened considerably, and after a few moments, Ron nudged Harry and said, "Hey, can you teach me how to do that puppy expression thing? It's not fair that you can win an argument with my girlfriend, but I can't…"

Harry laughed, and Hermione hid her giggles behind her hand. Harry opened his mouth to retort that Ron had been making fun of him for it earlier, but before he could utter a sound, the door to the room was opened with such force that it banged against the wall. The three occupants jumped, and turned to look at the intruder. Harry was immediately on his feet in worry.

"Draco?" Harry questioned, looking both confused and concerned.

Draco didn't answer, and instead gripped Harry's arm roughly, dragging him down the stairs with the other two following quickly behind. "That girl of yours," Draco finally growled, voice tight with irritation, "decided to throw a tantrum. Make it _stop_."

Suddenly Harry halted, his arm breaking free from Draco's tight hold. "A tantrum? Whatever for?"

It was a moment before Draco answered, and he stared at Harry as if that was the dumbest question he'd ever heard. "How the bloody hell should I know?!" he cried.

"Didn't you try to calm her down?"

"Oh now why didn't I think of that!" Draco's voice dripped so heavily with sarcasm that Harry flinched the slightest bit. "Of course I did! But she just kept going on and on and she won't. Bloody. Stop. Now _please_ come home and do something before she breaks any more of my family's heirlooms." He thrust the jar of floo powder on the mantle towards Harry, and after taking in the expression on Draco's face, Harry decided not to point out that apparating would be quicker.

So with an apologetic glance to his friends, and promises to come back soon, Harry took a pinch of the powder between his fingers, and tossed it into the fireplace, flooing back to Malfoy Manor.

As soon as he stepped – or stumbled – out of the fireplace, Harry could understand why Draco was upset. Sara was wailing in such a way that the house elves that had actually stuck around were holding their ears to their heads in an attempt to block her out. Various expensive-looking objects exploded at random intervals as the girl lashed out with accidental magic.

A sharp pang at his chest brought Harry's attention to the medallion that hung around his neck, and he clutched it out of reflex, surprised at the sudden heat emanating from it. He guessed that Sara's magic must be reaching out for other magical objects, like electricity to muggle appliances. Without waiting for anything else to be destroyed, Harry stepped quickly forward, and placed his hands firmly on the girl's small shoulders. "Sara. Sara!"

It took a few seconds, and then dead silence fell upon the manor as Sara stopped crying abruptly. "H-Harry?" she questioned, hiccupping once as she reached up to rub her eyes with the back of her hand.

"Yeah, it's me," Harry responded, and was nearly knocked over when Sara threw her small arms around his waist, burying her face in his stomach.

"I thought…I thought you left…" she mumbled into his shirt, and Harry's eyes widened in realization. He'd just told Hermione and Ron about her being left alone…he should've known that would affect her!

Hands still on her shoulders, Harry pushed her slightly back, and dropped to his knees. His eyes flicked towards Draco, who was standing a few meters away, watching them with a guarded, unreadable expression. He bit his lip, and turned back to Sara, meeting the girl's eyes. "I'm sorry if I made you think that…I never intended to cause you worry," he started slowly, "but that is not an excuse to destroy Draco's things, either."

Sara looked around the large room with wide eyes, as if just noticing the damage she had caused. Her lip trembled, and she turned towards Draco. "I sorry…" she whispered.

Draco sighed heavily, and brought his hand to the bridge of his nose, reminding Harry very much of Snape for a moment, before he could push the image from his mind. "Just…make sure it doesn't happen again. Harry's not going to leave you, don't worry." He walked over to them, and placed a hand atop each of their heads, before kneeling down, looking at both of them in turn. Then he focused his gaze on Sara, and quirked a corner of his lips. "He's too Gryffindor for that anyway."

She looked confused, but didn't ask what Draco meant, simply smiling hesitantly instead. Harry rolled his eyes and nudged Draco's hand from his head. "Draco's right, Sara," he said. "I'm not leaving, so I don't want to see anymore tantrums like that, okay?" His voice was stern, and Sara hiccupped again, looking down at the floor with a small pout. But she nodded her understanding, bringing her thumb to her mouth and biting lightly at it. "Good, now help me clean this up, okay?"

Sara nodded again, and Harry smiled and stood up, reaching out a hand to help Draco up as well. "Harry, you don't have t-" Draco cut off as Harry pulled him forward by their joined hands, and soft lips pressed against his. He could feel Harry's amused smile in the kiss.

"I should have known better," Harry mumbled as he pulled away, "than to leave her like that."

"You had no way of knowing she would react that way."

"I could've guessed."

"Harry…"

"Later," Harry said suddenly, cutting Draco off before he could continue. He smiled at Draco's slightly bewildered look, and pressed one more kiss to his cheek. "Let me take care of this first."

Draco sighed, but in the end just shrugged, and put his hands into his pockets. "Alright," he agreed. "I'll be outside if you need me, then."

After Draco had exited the large, French-glass doors, Sara turned to Harry expectantly, if not a bit apprehensively. "Alright, girl," Harry started, placing his hands on his hips and surveying the room. "Now you've only been here a day, so I won't blame this entirely on you. But you should still know that destroying one's home, even if not entirely intentional, is still a bad thing to do. So, you're going to help me clean this up."

With a small wave of his hand, Harry conjured a polishing cloth, and handed it to a slightly confused Sara. He didn't want her going near the broken glass – he'd been forced to clean up those sorts of messes before, then left to clean up his own blood afterward – so he compromised with this idea instead. "Once I fix the items you broke, you'll clean them, and make them look good, okay?"

The bright blue eyes lit with understanding, and Sara nodded so enthusiastically that Harry couldn't help the small chuckle that escaped him. And so they got to work. Harry went to each item one-by-one and cast _reparo_ on it – sometimes adding another touch of magic on the more complicated items – and then Sara would follow behind and polish it with a level of concentration that greatly surprised Harry. This girl was definitely mature for her age, when she wasn't panicking, of course. But, he could also recall instances of himself throwing very similar tantrums at a much older age. After all vases, paintings, and other expensive wares were back in order, which took about twenty minutes in the end, Harry ruffled Sara's hair as he took in their handy-work.

The small girl giggled and ducked away from the contact, but fisted one hand in Harry's robes, clinging lightly. "Now I just need to let Ron and Hermione know that everything's okay," Harry said absently, and headed to the fireplace with Sara trailing after him. He threw a bit of powder in the floo, and called out 'the Burrow!' as he stuck his head into the green flames.

It only took a moment for someone to notice him as he called out into the house for someone's attention. "Harry!" Hermione cried, jumping as she saw his face appear unexpectedly in the flames that suddenly flared to life. "Ron!" she called up the stairs. "It's Harry!" She knelt down before the mantle, and soon thudding footsteps were heard pacing quickly down the stairs, and then Ron was beside Hermione on the living room floor.

"Everything alright, mate?" Ron asked

"Yeah, nothing to worry about," Harry replied easily. "Just a bit of property damage; easily taken care of." A small sound of surprise escaped him then, and suddenly Harry was pushed slightly to the side as another head appeared in the flames, and wide, blue eyes filled with wonder looked around the burrow.

After a moment of everyone staring in silence, and Sara looking around, she stuck her hand into the flames on the other side, then brought it back, and repeated the action with a giggle. "Wicked!" she finally exclaimed, and Harry watched her bemusedly as she laughed at her own actions. "Mamma never let me look into the floo." With a sudden serious expression, she struck up what Harry was beginning to realize was her 'mother imitation' pose and said, "Your mother has a very important call to make. Please don't interrupt." As she finished, she stuck her tongue out, giggled once more, and pulled her head from the flames, leaving Hermione hiding a laugh, and Ron raising his eyebrows in surprised amusement.

There was a moment's pause as everyone tried to turn back to more serious thought before Hermione said, "So who is her mother?"

Harry shrugged, and his brow furrowed in slight frustration at not knowing the answer to that himself. "I don't know. I asked her that, and all I could get from her was 'mamma.'"

"Doesn't seem to miss her much, does she?" Ron asked, and Harry realized with a start that this was true. For all the fit she threw when Harry left, she seemed fine as long as he was there. It seemed her only worry was about being alone; she never even mentioned her mother unless it was to say something random about what the woman would or wouldn't let her do, and even then there was no emotion to it, just a stating of facts. He voiced his thoughts to his friends, and Hermione looked thoughtful.

"Well, it's possible that they had a more detached relationship," she said, sounding like she was trying to solve a puzzle in her mind. "Some mothers just don't have that closeness that others do with their children, and can be very distant."

Harry glanced behind him into a room the other two couldn't see, and turned back with a similarly thoughtful expression. "Maybe. I haven't really known her long enough to find out anything significant about her, so I suppose anything is possible."

Hermione smiled gently at him, and Harry knew that had they been talking in person, she would've had her hand on his arm as a kindly gesture. "We can look into it later, if you want to. You obviously have no intention of giving her up to anyone, so just get to know her as you can for now." She winked at him then and added, "But don't forget about Draco…I think he might be jealous."

Harry rolled his eyes good-naturedly, and said his goodbyes before ending the call. Draco really wouldn't be jealous, would he? Especially not so soon! Sighing, and shaking his head, Harry suggested that Sara take a nap, and that he would be outside with Draco. She was hesitant at first, but relented much easier when he told her that she could use one of the house elves to contact him.

And so with Sara settled comfortably on the couch, Harry followed the path Draco had taken out the doors earlier, and allowed himself to fall into his animagus form as he walked. He let out a low rumble, and sprinted a short distance, loving the feel of the tiger's strength. After adjusting to the tiger's senses, he sniffed around until he caught Draco's scent – and what an enticing scent it was – and followed it into a more wooded area around the manor.

He found Draco rather quickly and watched, amused, as the boy in the guise of a fox chased a chipmunk until it scurried up a tree and out of reach. Surprisingly, Draco hadn't noticed Harry's approach, so before he was found out, he crouched low, and pounced suddenly, landing right over Draco and unleashing a very convincing roar. The fox yelped and darted out from under his paws, leaping a good distance before he realized what had happened. The fox turned around and snarled at Harry – an expression that stayed frighteningly similar when he transformed back into a human.

"What the bloody hell, Harry!" he cried, running a slightly shaky hand through his hair to smooth it down, even though it was impeccable as always. "Were you _trying_ to give me a heart attack?"

Harry changed back as well and smiled softly, walking forward and wrapping his arms around a surprisingly compliant Draco, for one so irate. "Of course not love; just having a bit of fun is all."

Draco snorted, sounding both disbelieving and annoyed, but wrapped his arms around Harry's shoulders anyways. "You've a very twisted definition of fun."

Chuckling, Harry burrowed his face in Draco's neck, and pulled them down to sit on the forest floor. "Have you been out here all this time chasing helpless woodland creatures?" he asked, no small amount of amusement leaking into his words.

With a frown, and sounding completely serious, Draco replied, "They are _not_ helpless. I got scratched once, on my arm."

Harry raised an eyebrow, and looked to the offended appendage that Draco held up. With an almost patronizing smile, Harry leaned forward and kissed the small scratch, before placing his hand over it and healing it effortlessly. "There, all better," he cooed, and Draco scowled, causing Harry to laugh. They were silent for a while, until Harry looked up and, quite bemused, said, "Well, this is oddly familiar."

Draco's brow furrowed as he observed Harry's upturned face. "What is?"

"Us, sitting here in the forest like this. I remember a similar situation last time we had a serious conversation." His eyes lowered to meet Draco's, and he smiled. "Even if it was only yesterday."

Had it really all started just yesterday? Contemplating the sudden fondness in Harry's eyes, Draco looked around them and shrugged. "It's a better place to think than inside the manor." He caught Harry's amusement at the near-insult of his own house, and cleared his throat for a moment of distraction. "Anyway, I don't recall that we were even having a serious conversation. You just came out here and pounced on me."

Harry raised a brow at the images that him pouncing on Draco brought to mind, but forcefully pushed them aside. "Maybe not, but you knew it was coming."

Draco paused, then sighed, and slouched forward until his elbows were resting on his knees. "What more is there to talk about?" he asked, sounding tired and Harry wondered why. "I think any conversation we had going earlier was over anyway when you cut me off."

Slightly surprised, Harry tried to read the expression in Draco's eyes. "Draco…I didn't do that to spite you or anything, you know that, right?"

"No I- I didn't mean it like that." For a moment, Draco frowned as if he were confused, then sighed and lay back into the cool grass. "I guess I'm just a little worried," he admitted, watching Harry from the corner of his eye.

Harry's head tilted to the side, and he smiled oddly before lying down on his stomach, perpendicular to Draco's position. He rested his chin on one hand, and used his other to brush through Draco's hair. "Mr. Emotionless Ice Prince, worried. Fancy that."

Draco opened one eye – as they had closed to enjoy the soft touches to his hair – and sent a half-hearted glare in Harry's direction. "Ice Prince? Harry, you of all people should know I'm not the same as I-" He was cut off mid-sentence as warm lips pressed against his own in a gentle kiss.

"Of course I know who you are, Draco. I'm only teasing," Harry said as he pulled away, eyes fairly sparkling with mirth. He sobered quickly, and resumed playing with Draco's hair as his gaze focused off into the distance. "Why is everyone so worried about this? Usually _my_ instincts are the ones going insane, while everyone else tries to assure me there's nothing to worry about." Draco couldn't tell whether Harry was amused or annoyed by that…it sounded like an odd mix of both. "You especially seem most…affected by this: that's not the first time you've mentioned you were concerned. Why is that?" Harry asked, turning his head and locking his eyes onto Draco's own contemplative ones.

Taking a moment to think, Draco finally responded with, "Maybe because she's now living in _my_ house?" He couldn't stop the sarcasm from entering his voice, even as he tried to sound neutral. After all, for a short while, he had considered it to be his and Harry's house. "Besides," he continued before Harry could say anything, "It's you we're talking about here, Harry. When has anything in your life ever turned out normal?"

In a movement so swift Draco only registered the slight breeze caused by it, Harry pulled away and stood up. He took two steps towards the manor before hesitating, and he stood slightly off his center of balance as if he couldn't decide whether to keep walking or stay put. "That's not fair, Draco," he finally said, barely loud enough to be heard and with a waver in his voice that he didn't _want_ heard.

_Normal_.

Harry hated that word, because for some reason, for him alone, it was completely unattainable. For so many years, he was a freak because he could do magic, even if he hadn't known about it. At that age, by the influence of his family, he'd just thought he was a freak because of who he was. Then, in a place he finally should have fit in and been normal, he finds out he's a marked boy, and has to spend years trying to simply survive while being targeted by a deranged wizard. In his favorite sport he was the youngest seeker in a century. And though he never put much thought to it, he knew his relationship with Draco wasn't "normal" either. Oh, if only his relatives knew about that; not that they needed another reason to hate him, or think of him as the freak of the family. And now his magic had reached a level probably near Merlin's, and he couldn't be seen as anything but different, no matter where he went!

"Harry?"

Draco's tentative call startled Harry from his musings, and he released the air from his lungs in one great gust. Wondering when his thoughts on his own life had become so dark, Harry tried to force his mind blank as he leaned into Draco, who now stood directly behind him. He felt the medallion heat up against his chest again, but this time it wasn't a searing heat, but rather a warm, soothing one.

Staying silent for the moment, and slightly swaying them to some unknown tune, Draco tried to figure out why Harry had reacted that way to such a simple statement. Harry himself had joked about it before, so what was wrong now? Finally, he asked just a simple question. "Harry, are you okay?"

Brow furrowing, Harry tilted his head to the side at Draco's tone. Was he okay? Absolutely, and that was the confusing part. He'd calmed after the events with Sara earlier, and had come out here to enjoy a little bit of time with Draco. He knew it wasn't fair of him to react like that to such a simple teasing statement. Sighing heavily, Harry shook his head, forcing his mood to change to something better. He turned around and rested his hands lightly on Draco's hips, studying his boyfriend's lovely grey eyes closely. "I'm fine." As doubt passed across Draco's features, Harry chuckled and reached up for a kiss. "Promise," he said softly, and Draco grudgingly let it go.

"Good," the blonde finally replied, his hands traveling down and clasping behind Harry's lower back. "Now keep it that way."

Harry rolled his eyes at the command, but laughed anyway. Different or not, Draco still didn't deal well with people when they were upset. "Anything for you, love," Harry said and winked at Draco, grinning when the other boy half glared and half pouted at him for using such a patronizing tone.

"So you'll help me then, right?"

The question was thrown into the air so suddenly, that it took Draco several moments to even register what had been said. "With what?" he finally asked.

"With Sara," Harry replied as if Draco should have been following his train of thought all along.

With a sigh and a half-formed smile, Draco answered, "I don't have much of a choice, do I?" As if he could have denied Harry anyway. No, he had fallen too far for the raven-haired boy for that. Especially when he was being given the unintentional puppy eyes.

Smiling brightly, Harry leaned in for another kiss, this time not letting up so quickly. When they finally did part for air, Draco rested his forehead against Harry's, and said with a slight grin, "You know, I think I'm really starting to like the forest."

Harry just laughed, and shook his head, pulling Draco's body flush against his own and burying his face in the taller boy's neck. He inhaled deeply and mumbled, "Me too, Draco. Me too."

- - - - - - - - -

For a week after that, things passed rather smoothly. At least, it went well considering two teenage boys were now taking care of a five-year-old girl. They settled into a comfortable routine for the three of them. Harry had already received three books from Hermione on childcare, and good parenting, which he'd had a few laughs with Draco over. They had been helpful though, and Harry made sure Hermione knew his appreciation.

As for Sara, well, the two boys were amazed with how easily she adjusted to living with them. She mentioned nothing of her mother except to make random comparisons, and she never once mentioned a father or siblings. It was like she had been with them all her life. Draco still found it a bit odd, and still held his reservations, but Harry seemed so happy with this new addition that he couldn't bring himself to say anything. At least, that was, until Harry started acting a little differently.

It was hardly noticeable at first, and Draco only discovered it because he lived with the boy.

Just because they were now in a relationship, did not mean they never argued. But even when they did, Draco could always see the affection underlying the irritation in Harry's eyes, and he had no reason to doubt that they were just meant to be. It was never more than a small spat, or disagreement, really. Except for that one fight. It happened two weeks after Sara came to them, and Draco sat on his bed hours later, still reeling from the sudden intensity of Harry's anger, and trying to figure out what had triggered it. The only thing he seemed to be able to focus on was how Harry's magic had lashed out and knocked him into the wall, much like that first time before he had learned to control the new surge of power. The worst part, though, was that after that happened, Harry had turned around and left. That had been yesterday, and Harry had not yet returned.

- - -

"But Hermione…I knocked him into a _wall_!"

Hermione and Ron exchanged glances, both exasperated and sympathetic for their obviously very upset friend.

"We know, Harry," Hermione replied. '_You've told us four times now,_' she added in her head, trying not to find amusement in her friend's distress. "So why aren't you over there apologizing to him?"

For a long moment Harry said nothing. His arms came to wrap around his stomach, and his gaze slid to the far wall, seemingly staring into another world entirely. "Because I'm scared," he whispered finally, and his eyebrows furrowed as if he were struggling to remember something. "I felt, I mean when I did that…I was so _angry_, I don't even know why, now, but I- I just wanted to-" In an instant, Harry's jaw snapped shut and he closed his eyes for a moment before opening them again. "I wanted to _hurt_ him."

He looked so lost and so scared of this fact that Hermione couldn't help but to get up and hug him. Harry accepted the touch, but didn't do much to return it.

"Well that's not so bad, is it?" Ron suddenly said, and both his friends turned to look at him with odd expressions.

"Ron, if you're implying that I-"

"No, no, hear me out," Ron cut in, not even letting Harry finish. "You were enemies long before you became, well…lovers, or whatever," he mumbled awkwardly before picking up his sentence again. "So it would make sense that if you got into a fight, some of that might come back, even though you think you're past all that, right?"

Another long silence passed, as both Harry and Hermione stared at Ron, until he finally started fidgeting and asked what they were staring at. Finally, Hermione smiled, and went back to her place on the couch beside Ron. "You're right," she said, almost managing to mask her surprise. Then she turned to Harry to further explain. "Just because you have forgiven each other, doesn't mean that a situation like that, where adrenaline starts to take over, might trigger a reflexive response to defend yourself, and fight what your subconscious, in just such a situation, may still recognize as a threat."

Harry opened his mouth to respond, closed it, opened it again, and let out the emotion with a sigh rather than with words he couldn't form. He looked back toward the fireplace, thinking over what Hermione had said. Did he really still think of Draco as an enemy, deep down? Well obviously it had to be somewhere…but even so, Harry didn't _want_ that reflex to be there. And then he wondered if they could ever have a normal, carefree relationship.

"_When has anything in your life ever turned out normal?_"

A frown passed Harry's features as Draco's words echoed again in his mind. He didn't like them, but, well…it was the truth. So in answer to his own question…no, no they probably wouldn't. And now he felt like a jerk for running off like that. Draco probably thought it was something worse than just Harry getting scared and running to Ron and Hermione. Oops. "Hey, um…guys, I gotta go."

Hermione gave him an encouraging smile, and Ron just waved him off. "Yeah, you probably should," the redhead agreed. "Don't wanna make ferret-face worry too much," he said with a wink.

Harry rolled his eyes, but feeling a little better about the events of the day before after a night to calm down and a talk with his friends, he turned and grabbed some floo powder off the mantle. "Alright, well, thanks to both of you." And without any more words, he was gone.

- - -

When Draco heard the activation of the floo, he jumped from his spot in the library – books often helped him retain his calm – and practically ran into the entrance where Harry was just stepping into the room. He started to run forward and hug him, then thought better of it and stopped abruptly, crossing his arms and narrowing his eyes at the sheepish-looking boy.

They stayed like that for a few moments until Draco finally gave into the urge and ran up to Harry, pulling him into his arms in a near-crushing hug. "Bloody hell, Harry, did you have to go and disappear on me like that?!"

Harry flashed him a charming grin, and kissed him solidly. "I'm sorry, I really am, and I'm really, really sorry about yesterday too. I…don't know what came over me. I don't even remember what I was so mad about. Forgive me?"

Draco sighed in relief. He should have known it was something stupid: that seemed to happen often when it came to Harry, after all. "Of course."

"Harry!"

Both boys turned at the shout in the doorway, and Sara came running into the room, throwing her arms around the two boys and pulling them into a group hug. "You're back!" she stated with a happy grin, and Harry ruffled her hair with a soft laugh.

"I was only gone one night," he said, surprised that he seemed to be missed so much. At least Sara hadn't gone crazy on them this time. She seemed to understand now that she'd found a solid place to be. Suddenly warm hands found his, and Harry looked up into Draco's eyes, which were staring at him openly, asking questions without words.

"So you're okay now?" Draco asked, that never-ending concern that continually amazed Harry once again present.

With a happy grin, Harry rested his head on Draco's shoulder and said, "Perfectly fine. I promise."

Now if only that were the case.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Bleh, hit a bit of writer's block on this one again…next chapter's at least started out a bit more interestingly I think. Hope you enjoy!


	5. In Search of Answers

Edit! This chapter has now been betaed! Nothing in the plot has changed, so nothing to worry about there, just minor mistakes and oddities have been fixed.

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**Chapter 5: In Search of Answers**

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

It was in this blessed month of peace, while Harry thought he was finally getting a much-deserved break from the hectic abnormality of his life – barring, of course, that single incident that drove him to his friends – when fate decided to throw him a curveball and throw his life spinning into uncertainty once again.

"Draco, pass the milk, would you?" asked Harry sleepily, holding his hand out for the milk without actually looking up from the _Daily Prophet_ laid out on the table near him. Draco, equally distracted by a book on ancient artifacts imbued with dark or neutral curses, did not hear the request and kept on reading.

As his hand continued to remain empty, Harry frowned and looked up, noticing the look of rapt attention on Draco's face. Rolling his eyes, Harry cleared his throat loudly. "Draco!"

Draco jumped and looked up, startled. "What?" he asked, as if caught guilty with his hand in the cookie jar. Sara stifled a small giggle behind her hand as she munched on her own cereal.

Harry's lips quirked the slightest bit. "I asked for the milk. I can't very well reach it across the table."

Raising a brow, Draco countered, "You couldn't just summon it? You're such a muggle sometimes, Harry." His tone was lightly teasing, and he reached for the milk anyway, only to have it pulled away just before his hand closed around it. He blinked in surprise for a few seconds before turning to Harry, who now looked at him with an expression he wasn't quite sure he liked. He looked as if, well, as if he were sneering at him. But Harry doesn't sneer! He furrowed his brow, questioning the look he was being given. Harry did nothing but look down and begin pouring the milk into his bowl of cereal, completely ignoring everything around him.

Sara looked between the two boys, confused by the sudden change in mood. Draco caught her gaze and shrugged, turning back to his book and deciding Harry had woken up on the wrong side of the bed or something.

Harry bowed his head, looking at his cereal bowl but seeing completely through it, not caring as the food started to get soggy and his breakfast was ruined. The breakfast, however, was the last thing on his mind. No, what concerned him most was that he'd felt _it_ again, that feeling of lashing out…of wanting to cause pain. That was the second time he'd felt it so strongly. And over passing the milk?! '_What is wrong with me…?_' he questioned himself silently, turning his gaze to the milk in his hand. '_Of course I'm a muggle sometimes; I was raised that way_.' It only made sense that he would forget about magical solutions as easily as Draco would overlook the muggle ones.

In a sudden movement that made all eyes turn towards him, Harry stood, both hands braced on the table for a moment of stability before he pushed his chair back and walked towards the doors leading to the back lawns of the manor. He stopped behind Draco's chair, and tilted the blonde's head back by a grip on his chin, laying a soft kiss on his forehead. It was all he could do at the moment, as he was afraid to open his mouth, lest he say something he would regret. And then he was gone out the glass doors, not looking back to see Draco's confusion.

Once the door shut behind him with a solid click, and no sooner had he taken his second step onto the stone patio, Harry transformed into his animagus form, taking off at a sprint with no care as to which direction he'd gone. He felt as if every muscle in his body were tensed against something he couldn't sense, and his blood pumped swiftly through his veins without reason. He felt as if something was bearing down on his mind, but there was nothing substantial to confirm his suspicion. It was as if his own body was fighting against him, but what sort of sense did that make?

Harry let loose a roar, and pushed the tiger's body to run faster, faster until he could leave his unease behind and fall back to how it was before. He didn't like this feeling, the feeling of something pushing just _there_, just below the surface of his conscious thought. He must be tired. That had to be it. Maybe the stress of the final battle with Voldemort was, for some reason, just now catching up to him, or maybe his magic was draining his body, like the way it had when his absolute power had been released from its unintended bonds. Or maybe it was just the change in his life that Sara had brought along, and he was worn out from caring for a child, and stressing, wondering if he was doing it right.

Without realizing it, Harry had slowed to a walk, and his breath left him in huffs as he recovered from such an extensive run. He heard water nearby, and walked over to find a stream flowing through the woods. Taking no time to hesitate, Harry jumped into the water, cooling his body and refreshing him entirely. He paddled over to a shallow bank, and laid down still half in the water, enjoying the cool waves against his stomach as he drifted into a half-asleep state, smiling inwardly as he finally reclaimed the calm was looking for.

- - -

Draco watched the doors long after they closed behind Harry, deep in thought, and book entirely forgotten as his hand rested on the worn, and momentarily neglected pages. He was forced to reject his notion that Harry was simply having a bad morning; the boy wouldn't have been so jumpy if that were the case. Well, maybe jumpy wasn't the right word, but Draco saw in his shadowed eyes, and subtle body language that there was something…_unnatural_, about Harry's behavior. "Sara," he said suddenly, tearing his eyes away from the glass doors for the first time since Harry's departure through them.

Sara looked up, wide-eyed, with her spoon in her mouth, as she had just taken a bite of her cereal. She took the spoon from her mouth, chewed the cereal and swallowed before responding. Draco had made sure that, from the get-go, she would learn proper manners. "Yes?" she asked, tilting her head slightly to the side.

"I'm going to be in the library for a while…there's something I need to look up. Let the house elves know if you need anything. Don't bother me unless absolutely necessary, ok?" He thought he saw a shadow flicker in her eyes at his cold tone, but he couldn't be entirely certain. He had probably sounded like her mother used to, he realized, if he were to hazard a guess. But he couldn't be bothered so much by that right now, as he had more important things on his mind.

"Ok," she answered simply, going back to her cereal slightly more subdued, but no worse for wear, Draco figured.

Sighing, Draco noted the page he was on, and snapped his book closed, picking it up as he pushed away from the table and headed toward the library.

When he pushed through the large wooden doors, Draco paused and took a moment to think of where the information he needed might be. The doors shut heavily behind him, and a stifled silence fell over the large room, and it suddenly felt far more oppressive than usual. Frowning, Draco shook off the feeling, and started towards a section near the back, unlabeled, as was the rest of the library. That, of course, was his father's idea, in the man's constant paranoia. "_This way_," he had said, "_anyone trying to sneak into this library will be caught before they can find what they are looking for._"

Draco snorted, rolling his eyes. If anyone entered the manor, they'd be caught long before they got to the library. Not to mention if they were looking for something specific, they'd only need to use a spell for summoning or finding. Then again, there were probably wards against being able to do that to.

Slowly Draco walked down the aisle of books, pushing thoughts of his father from his mind. The man was of no concern to him now, he thought with an odd mix of satisfaction and regret. He allowed the soft skimming of his fingers over the age-weathered tomes to calm his thoughts, and redirect his focus to the task at hand. Dark magic; that was what he needed to think about right now. Namely, the sort of dark magic that wasn't noticeable until it had already taken hold of a person's mind. '_I wonder what Harry would say if he knew what I was doing,_' he thought to himself, knowing that Harry would probably laugh it off. Good thing Draco was far more skeptical about everything than Harry. After all, he grew up learning about all sorts of dark magic, and had learned never to ignore the possibility of its existence.

"Aha! Here," he whispered into the silence as he reached for one of the slightly newer books on the shelf. He thought it might be better to start with more recent knowledge of the effects of the older spells, so he could have a better understanding of what he was looking at in the original texts. He crossed his legs at the ankles, and sat gracefully on the floor, leaning against the wall, and reading by the ample light streaming in through the large windows on the south side of the room.

- - -

Once Draco left the room, Sara's expression fell into a pout. He was always meaner to her when Harry wasn't around, and she didn't like him very much, but she had to at least respect him, because Harry said it was his house. She sighed and set down her spoon, resting her chin in her hand and kicking her feet idly against the legs of her chair. She supposed she couldn't blame him though. After all, when she saw him alone, he looked kinda sad; he probably had a bad life.

Sara put her spoon to her mouth, chewing idly as she thought over what might have made Draco so sad. Was it worse than her mom had been? Suddenly she gasped in surprise, and quickly put her spoon back on the table. It must be! Since he didn't seem to know how to act with people, except for Harry. Maybe she just had to prove to him that she was a friend!

Grinning at her sudden moment of inspiration, Sara jumped from her chair, and called one of the house elves to help her as she headed towards the kitchen, humming a tune as she went along.

- - -

When Harry walked back into the manor a while later – he hadn't bothered to keep track of time – it was to a very enticing smell. As he stepped around the corner and into the kitchen, he had to hold back a laugh as he saw Sara, covered in flour, chatting to one of the house elves and seemingly oblivious to the absolute mess around her.

"Sara," Harry admonished, though his tone was obviously more amused than anything. "What on earth are you doing?"

Sara looked up in surprise, and grinned sheepishly at Harry standing there with his hands on his hips, a small grin on his face. "I'm making cookies!" she said, obviously very proud of her work as she pointed to the oven, where the delicious smell was coming from.

Harry raised his brows, gazing over the open cabinets, upturned flour, and myriad of cooking utensils – some of which were entirely unnecessary. "I can see that," he said. "But why?"

"They're for Draco," she answered simply. "And I made them by hand 'cause the lady at the store one time said they taste better that way."

"Did she now?" Harry asked, not really looking for an answer. "Did Draco ask you to make him cookies?" If he had, Harry would be having a word with him about child labor. But that theory was dispelled when the girl emphatically shook her head.

"I thought maybe if I made him cookies, he would like me better."

Harry didn't know whether to be amused or sympathetic. He smiled and motioned for her to come to him. When she was close enough, he pulled her into a quick hug before releasing her. "Don't take Draco's behavior personally, okay? He was never really taught to socialize well," he told her with a wink, knowing full well that it was his social training that made him so disagreeable in the first place, and Sara smiled at him.

"I know," she replied, in that way kids have of being so self-assured about anything they convince themselves of. Then she walked out of the kitchen and into the living room, finding a comfortable spot on one of the couches. Harry, thinking she was going to give the cookies to Draco, asked her what she was doing in there. Her voice, when she spoke, once again took on that absolute finality. "He told me not to disturb him 'less it was an emergency."

"I see," Harry replied, rolling his eyes at Draco's behavior. He should've guessed. "Well why don't we just go surprise him then?"

- - -

Draco sighed heavily as he set aside yet another heavy, dusty, and most importantly, _useless_ book into a fast-growing pile of discarded material. He'd read about intricacies of casting cruciatus, about which situation called for which dark spell, and even about herbs that could boost the potential of certain magical wavelengths in one's body. But he had yet to find anything that could give him an answer or a lead to the sort of effect he was looking for. Perhaps in this next book, _Eclipse: Find Darkness in the Light_, would hold some better clues.

Unfortunately, he would have to hold off confirming that guess, because it was at that moment that the heavy doors of the library swung open, announcing another's presence with creaking hinges. Sensing Harry's aura – something he was becoming attuned to with practice – Draco snapped the book in his hand shut and stood, walking quickly to greet him at the doors. He stopped shorter than intended when he saw Sara with him and holding a plate of cookies. Draco raised an eyebrow, silently questioning, and looked at Harry.

Harry, in turn, smirked in amusement at Draco's confusion. "She seems to be under the impression that you don't like her," he said, waving a hand towards the plate. "But as they say, the way to a man's heart is through his stomach, right?"

Fighting between amusement and annoyance, Draco shook his head and laughed softly. "If said man wants to become fat, perhaps." Seeing Sara's falling expression at his words, Draco sighed heavily, giving up his researching as a lost cause for now. "But I suppose anyone would enjoy such a gesture every once in a while," he continued, grabbing one of the cookies and taking a bite. They were a tiny bit overdone, but overall surprisingly good, and Draco decided to tell Sara so, at least to satisfy her so that she might not find it necessary to disturb him in the future.

"So what were you doing locked away in here anyway?" Harry asked, looking around the personal library in slight awe.

Draco finished the cookie in his hand and shrugged. "Research," he replied simply.

Harry raised a brow in curiosity. "About what?"

"Nothing that would interest you," Draco said with a smirk. '_Though, ironically, it does concern you,_' he added in his head.

"Dabbling in the dark arts, then?" Harry asked innocently, or at least with a pretense of innocence, and Draco was rather insulted by the insinuation.

"If you think I've suddenly decided to become the next dark lord, then I think you should get your head examined!"

"Oh, methinks the lady doth protest too much," Harry said, eyebrows raised, and looking behind Draco theatrically.

Draco, finding less amusement in the accusations, scowled and pushed Harry forcefully back. "That's it, both of you out of my library!" And when they were both standing in the hallway, Draco took out his wand and slammed the doors closed, locking them for good measure. Of course he knew it would be no problem for Harry to either spell them open, blast them down, or apparate right through them – bloody reincarnation of Merlin, he had to be – but it still made him feel better to hear the doors slam and the snag of the lock echo through the library.

And as soon as the irritation had come, it left again, leaving Draco defeated and sagging against the door, wondering when the tension in the manor had become almost a physical presence. When Harry had accused him of practicing dark arts, the look in his eyes had been completely serious. Sighing heavily, Draco buried his face in his hands. "Damn it all…" he muttered into the empty room. "When the bloody hell did the world decide to go mad?"

On the other side of the door, Harry blinked at the wooden barrier that had nearly bashed his nose in, and let out a huff of annoyance. "Really, what's got him so pissy?" he grumbled, turning around and stalking down the hall.

Sara hurried to catch up with him, and then had to almost jog to keep up with his much longer strides. "Why is he mad?" she asked, sounding genuinely confused. "Were my cookies bad?"

Harry chuckled slightly and slowed his pace, pondering how nice it would be to live in her world. "No Sara, he said they were fine. He's just being Draco."

Reassured, Sara grinned and ran off towards the kitchen, presumably to put away the cookies. Or make a bigger mess. Harry wasn't sure which, and didn't much care at the moment either. He slowed to a stop, and looked over his shoulder back towards the library, his expression falling into a small, contemplative frown. 'Just being Draco' typically meant just being Slytherin, and being Slytherin meant being up to something. Draco had been too quick to meet them at the door…it was more like Draco not to be bothered to get up if he was busy, and to make the other person come to him. Suspicious? Harry thought so. This merited more attention.

- - -

A soft mewling sound dragged Draco from his moment of melodrama, and he looked up in surprise. "Noah?" he called softly, and the cat came bounding out from behind a nearby bookshelf. "When did you get in here?" Draco asked absently as the kitten rubbed its head against his hand, purring happily. He must have come in earlier when Draco had been looking through those books, and he idly wondered if the kitten had found any bugs or critters to play with among the old shelves. "Well, no matter…at least _you're_ not going to go all weird on me, right?" Noah just meowed again in response and Draco chuckled, picking the cat up and cradling him to his chest as he walked back to his former spot. He might as well get a little bit more work done while he was 'sulking' behind closed doors.

After leafing through the pages of two more books and finding nothing that could be considered even remotely useful, Draco sighed heavily and set his most current one aside. He slumped against the bookcase behind him, and stared unseeingly at the bookshelves before him, slightly miffed at the library that had always been such an invaluable resource to him before. "It's because it's about Harry Potter, isn't it?" he muttered to the offending room. He only received a meow from a nearby bookcase in response. "Of course it is…" he grumbled as he stood up, brushing the dust from his robes absently and continuing to mumble under his breath about bi-polar saviors and traitorous libraries.

As soon as he started moving, Noah bounded up to him and batted at the hem of his robes. He watched the animal amuse itself for a few moments while his thoughts went elsewhere. Finally, he bent down and picked Noah up and headed towards the doors of the library. "Come on, cat…looks like I'm going to have to pay Granger a visit."

"Meow."

"…Right."

- - -

When Draco crawled into bed next to Harry that night, as had become the regular sleeping arrangement since Harry moved in with him, there seemed to be a chasm in the bed that he simply couldn't cross. The strange part about that was that Harry was right there in his arms. He lay awake long after Harry had fallen asleep, contemplating the dark hair filling his vision, and the stillness of his form. The hand that wasn't trapped between them and the mattress lifted to idly run up and down Harry's arm, and his thoughts wandered, once more, to Harry's recent behavior. How was it that he could lay here, same as always, but put off such an aura that Draco felt he was being pushed away?

Draco didn't like being out of the loop, and he was especially sure to concern himself with things that went on under the roof of Malfoy Manor. Right now he was having issues with both of these things. His thoughts flew in circles as he desperately tried to provide answers that he just didn't have. _Something_ was wrong, that much he was sure of. It's just…that something was so vague that he was having a very hard time deciding what to do about it. And yet, his ever-scheming mind would not leave him alone.

Draco didn't get much sleep that night.

- - -

The next morning, Draco had showered, dressed and eaten by the time Harry even opened his eyes. "I'm going out," he informed Harry as he ran a brush through his hair, while Harry still lounged in the oversized bed, yawning and only half paying attention to the world around him.

"Mmkay, have fun," he replied easily and rolled over, and Draco let out the breath he hadn't even realized he'd been holding. And that was what shocked him the most. Was he really so afraid? Did he not even trust Harry?

Shaking his head almost violently, Draco banished the thoughts from his head. His only focus was to be on discovering the reason behind Harry's strange behavior. The rest would no longer be an issue once he took care of the main problem. So with his resolve now set, Draco swung his cloak over his shoulders, glancing once at Harry's peacefully sleeping form before exiting the room. He noted that Sara was still asleep as well as he passed by her room, and rolled his eyes. Really, the girl could be Harry's daughter, for all the two acted alike.

He reached the fireplace and tossed in a bit of floo powder, stepping through with no hesitation.

"Weasley!" he called as soon as he stepped through the mantle on the other side into the Burrow. Almost immediately, three figures stepped into the living room, including the twins, visiting for a short time, and the matriarch of the family.

"Well, looky here, if it isn't the blonde menace," one of the twins stated; Draco didn't care which.

"Why, so it is. Say, Malfoy, how's Harry doing? He hasn't come to see us lately. Haven't caged him up or anything, have you?" the other twin asked teasingly.

Draco's reply was a look that said simply, 'You're an idiot.' "Like I could, anyway," he mumbled to himself before he turned to the only decidedly sane one of the impromptu welcoming committee. "I'm looking for Ron," he stated.

"Someone mention my name?" the target redhead asked as he appeared around the corner of the kitchen, taking a bite out of a piece of toast.

Draco rolled his eyes. "Where were you a minute ago?" Ron opened his mouth to answer, but Draco cut him off. "Never mind. Rhetorical question. Is Granger around?" he asked, getting straight to the point.

Ron blinked a couple of times, probably trying to figure out why the Slytherin was looking for Hermione in the first place. "Nah, she went back home. Why?"

Groaning in annoyance at the inconvenience, Draco stepped further into the living room to speak more easily with the other boy. The twins had lost interest when Draco refused to be baited by their teasing and went off to do whatever it was they did, and Molly had gone back to her duties with a smile, no longer concerned about her children's safety with the youngest Malfoy. "Because…I need to speak with her," he answered simply.

Starting to realize that Draco really had come here on a mission, Ron finished his toast and stepped forward as well. "Is this about Harry?" A short nod was the only reply he got. "Well…have you discovered anything new?"

"Barely a thing," Draco replied grudgingly. "As much as I hate to admit it, I need the bookworm's advice on this. She's known Harry longer."

Ron pouted at that answer and crossed his arms. "So have _I_," he grumbled.

Draco smirked. "Yeah but you're not observant about things." Ron's eyes narrowed into a glare at him, but Draco ignored the hostile expression. "Is her house open to the floo network?"

"No," Ron answered, sounding considerably more irritated than earlier. Draco resisted the urge to smirk again. "You'd have to apparate."

Urge to smile no longer present, Draco frowned. "I've never been to her house."

"Well too bad, guess you're out of luck then," Ron replied, mood picking back up instantly. Had Harry been there, he would have been rolling his eyes at the two's relentless childish behavior.

"Look, Weasley," Draco finally sighed impatiently, "this is important. And it's about your best friend." He paused for a long moment before finally willing himself to ask the question that needed to be asked. "Will you take me there?"

Not sure whether to be amused at Draco's reluctance to ask something so simple, or annoyed that he was in his house in the first place, Ron just decided to take the choice of less resistance. Besides, it's like he said, this was about Harry. "Sure, whatever. But you're getting back on your own."

"Obviously," Draco replied, gripping Ron's shoulder as the other called out to his mom that he'd be back a little later. After her response from the kitchen telling them to be safe, Ron apparated them to Hermione's.

As soon as his feet hit solid ground again, Draco stepped a few feet away. Just because he loved Harry didn't mean Ron was any more favored in his eyes. He looked up as he smoothed any wayward wrinkles from his robe to see two very surprised faces, and one only mildly surprised one.

"Ron? Draco? What are you doing here?" Hermione asked as she stood up from the couch, allowing her parents to recover from the sudden shock of having two people appear in front of them. Just because they weren't strangers to the magical world didn't mean they were used to it.

Ron shrugged and looked at Draco. "I dunno, he said he needed to talk to you."

Raising her brows in curiosity, Hermione turned to look at the former Slytherin. "Really? Whatever for?" she asked, sounding much more pleasant than Ron. Then again, he expected that from her.

"What do you think?" he replied, his tone not quite matching the animosity the words implied.

"Harry."

Draco nodded, and Hermione looked decidedly worried. "Alright, come on then," she said and waved for the two boys to follow her.

When they arrived in what Draco guessed was Hermione's room, he let out a low whistle. "The girl does love her books," he commented as he looked around, noticing many shelves of them, surprisingly all fitting into the space of one bedroom. There was even a bed in the corner.

Hermione smiled and shrugged. "Somebody had to in our group, or we'd have been dead a long time ago."

Draco laughed appreciatively. "With Harry's tendency to rush in without thinking? No doubt."

Happy with the amiable atmosphere, leaving Ron to wonder how she managed that, Hermione sat down on the edge of her bed and became serious once more. "So what's going on, Draco? Has anything bad happened?"

Shrugging one shoulder in a sort of non-committed consent, Draco ran his eyes over the titles of the books around him as he thought about his answer. "Not…_terrible_, per se. He's gotten a bit moody, I guess."

A low chuckle from off to the side distracted Draco, and he turned to Ron both curious and lightly insulted. Ron caught the expression and his smile grew just a little bigger. "Sorry, it's just…Harry's got a sort of knack for being moody. He's got angst issues, sometimes." He paused for a moment, remembering their fifth year especially, then shrugged. "Then again, I suppose I would too, living the life he has."

Draco sighed and shook his head. "Okay, allow me to rephrase then. He's snapping at the smallest of things. Even just passing the milk at the table."

"Seriously?" Hermione asked, looking both uncertain and amused.

"I miss the days Harry actually came to us with this stuff," Ron grumbled randomly, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Ron, you should be happy for Harry," Hermione admonished, and Draco cut in before she could say anything further.

"Besides, he hasn't even come to me. It's only because I live with him that all this behavior is obvious. If it were up to him…I'm not sure anybody would find anything amiss."

Hermione shook her head. "You're probably right about that. Harry has this thing about being a burden to people.

"Which he shouldn't, the idiot," Draco griped good-naturedly. Harry probably didn't even realize he had pretty much the entire wizarding world in his debt. Silly boy. But Draco supposed that was one of the reasons he loved him.

"Well," Ron finally cut in, annoyed that his girlfriend and his one-time enemy were suddenly getting along so well. "We came over here to do something about it, right? Or are we just going to talk about Harry's wonderfully cheerful disposition all day?"

Draco smirked. "What do you know, Weasley's said something useful." He quickly turned serious though, not even giving Ron a chance to defend himself. "You're right though. Granger, I'm trying to find information on dark spells."

"You couldn't do that at Malfoy Manor?" Ron cut in looking rather scandalized, as if a solid truth of his life had been ripped away. Which, Draco thought, might very well be true.

"I'm lacking a bit of information, something vital I'm sure. I need another mind to bounce ideas off of, because frankly I'm just a little bit stumped."

"How so?" Hermione asked, immediately perking up at the idea of a mystery to solve. Ron just sighed and flopped down onto the bed, knowing that sudden glint in Hermione's eyes.

"Well, I've looked at general curses and uses of dark magic, and looked through a few books that I thought would hold any plausible solutions, but I'm not finding anything that matches Harry's behavior except for simple possession."

"And you don't think that's a valid answer?" Hermione asked, lifting her hand to toy with a strand of hair as she thought.

Draco shrugged and looked off to the side, staring out the window but not seeing the world beyond it. "I'm not sure. It just doesn't seem right, knowing how easily he can throw off the imperious curse, and knowing just how strong his innate magic is. How could any sort of dark magic even take hold against such strength?"

"I don't know…" Hermione mumbled as she furrowed her brow, almost as if talking to herself. "But that is troubling…"

"No matter how strong a fortress is built, there's always some way to sneak inside," Ron suddenly cut in, and the two other occupants of the room focused on him.

"Have an idea, Weasley?" Draco asked, acknowledging if only to himself what the other boy said was true.

Ron shrugged and picked at a loose thread on the bed's comforter. "I'm just saying you can't count something out just because you _think_ it can't happen. Sure Harry can throw off the imperious, but occlumency was always sort of a weakness for him. The…Voldemort got into his head plenty of times."

The mood seemed to darken suddenly at the mention of the dead maniac's name, and a shadow fell across Draco's face as he frowned. Sure Voldemort had gotten into Harry's mind, but the boy hadn't been as powerful then, not to mention they were connected through that scar. Those were special circumstances. But now that connection should be gone, considering one end of it was dead.

"When exactly did all of this start?" Hermione suddenly cut into Draco's thoughts, snapping him out of whatever world he had gone into for a moment.

Shaking his head once to clear it, Draco answered haltingly, "It's…a little hard to pinpoint, actually. I guess it started a couple weeks ago, when we started arguing more."

Hermione frowned, and she was staring hard at some indefinable spot near the floor. "And did anything happen then that you think might be the cause of this? Anything change, did you go anywhere unusual, pick up some questionable object?"

Questionable object? Draco nearly snorted; something about that just struck him as funny. Then it struck him as something else entirely as he thought about Sara. Hadn't she always been a somewhat 'questionable object' to him? In a manner of speaking, anyway. But he had never really wanted that to be true. As much as he remained outwardly apathetic to her presence, she was sort of growing on him.

"Only Sara…" he mumbled, diverting his gaze to the side, his eyes roving over the fair amount of rare book titles on the shelves. An inconspicuous title written in faded gold lettering caught his sudden attention, and he furrowed his brow, walking over to pull the book from its spot.

"What is it?" Hermione asked, but Draco didn't really hear her, and definitely not enough to provide an answer.

His fingers ran over the title as he mouthed the words, _Casting and Planting: A Guide to Curses and Subconscious Influences._ Something about it seemed…familiar.

A light blush rose to Hermione's cheeks as she noticed the book Draco had picked up. "I know it's a bit of a dark book," she started, glancing at Ron before clearing her throat and speaking again, "but I thought the best way to learn defense against dark magic would be to learn all I could about it."

Draco looked up, finally breaking his intense concentration. Hermione kept talking. "It has a companion book. At least, that's what the owner of the bookstore told me. But he said it had been sold long before, and he didn't know where it was now. These books are so rare I've begun to wonder if they aren't one of a kind; I can't find the other book anywhere. I don't even know its proper title."

Grey eyes flicked almost nervously between Hermione and the book in Draco's hands, desperate to remember something that was just beyond his conscious thought. And then it struck him with an unexpected force. "I know that book," he whispered, staring at the wall, rather than talking to anyone in particular.

"What?" Hermione said, half cry and half whisper. "You know it?"

Even Ron looked interested now, and he scooted forward just a bit on the mattress.  
"On to something, Malfoy?"

"I'm…not sure," Draco answered, sounding hesitant but anxious. "I'll let you know." And in the next second he was gone, apparating back to his home with the book in his hands.

Ron and Hermione exchanged confused glances. "Didn't he come to _us_ for help?" Ron asked, and Hermione shrugged, giving the boy a half smile.

"I guess he found what he was looking for," she replied. That wasn't going to stop her from trying to figure out something on her own, though, just in case what Draco had mysteriously discovered wasn't the answer. She hoped though, for Harry's sake, that Draco had figured out what he needed. It sounded like things were starting to get a little bit out of hand.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

And finally we have chapter five! I wish I could say the excuse that I've been really busy with projects and stuff was a good one…but I've been doing a lot of reading around on ff too, so…yeah. I think there's only a couple more chapters on this, but I'm not entirely sure. I think in the next chap I'll try to go more into Harry's mind. So glad winter break is just in a couple weeks. And I might not have internet access for the next few days (family in the country has no internet…), so happy Thanksgiving to all!


	6. Not So Great Discoveries

Yeesh, this chapter took me a while! I hate losing my enthusiasm for stories…and it was the ending that kept me writing through the slower beginning. Go figure. Anyway, here is the next chapter, with a little bit of my twisted plot ideas revealed!

Beta'd by 13thMoonWitch, of course. Hugs to the wonderful beta!

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

**Chapter 6: Not-So-Great Discoveries**

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Swift steps pounded against the soft ground, disturbing an otherwise unnatural silence. The forest was dark, and it was a scene where it should have been raining. None of this was noticed. Harry ran and ran, but it didn't feel like the stress-relieving runs that had become a sort of routine lately. No, this time it felt different. It felt like he was running for his life. He was afraid, terrified, with no idea why, but still he ran, pushing his body harder until it felt as if his legs and his lungs would simply give up.

But just as he was about to give up running, a face appeared before him, and he gave a startled cry while trying to skid to a stop. "Sirius" he finally said disbelievingly.

The ever-scraggly man grinned and tossed his head in a manner that more resembled a dog's than a human's. "Hey there, Harry, ready to come home now?" he asked, shoving his hands in his pockets and gesturing behind him with a toss of his head to a house that could barely be seen in the distance.

"I…" Harry frantically tried to come up with a response. Sirius was dead! How could he be here now? But beneath the confusion was an immediate and unwavering answer that came from a boy who had always wanted a proper home to return to. He found himself speaking before he could even think about it. "Of course."

Then, in an instant, Sirius's grin turned into a malicious smirk, and the house completely disappeared. "That's too bad, freak."

Harry's eyes widened in shock. No, not Sirius, he would never call Harry a freak! Before he could say anything though, he heard laughter behind him, and turned around to see an 11-year-old Draco Malfoy standing with his – very much alive – parents, laughing to his heart's content and obviously enjoying Harry's torment. Harry furrowed his brow at the sight, quite sure that the last time he'd seen Draco, the boy had been seventeen.

"Poor Potty, even his godfather doesn't want him!" the young Malfoy simpered, a malicious glint resting in his grey eyes.

"No…" Harry murmured, frowning at the regal family. "No, this isn't real, it can't be. You're not the Draco I know."

Malfoy smirked, and then he began to slowly morph until he took on the appearance of his 17-year-old self, and his parents faded away behind him. The boy-turned-teenager sauntered towards him until they were nearly touching, and ran his fingers seductively down Harry's chest. "Aren't I, Harry?" he purred. His voice turned almost mocking as he continued, moving closer until their breath mingled. "So very sure of yourself, love. Do you truly believe it?"

Harry opened his mouth to cry, 'of course I do!' but as soon as he took a breath to speak, Draco was gone, and the darkness had settled again.

Then just like everything before, the sound of laughter formed from seemingly nowhere, simply out of the darkness, but it didn't sound at all joyful. The first he recognized as his relatives just before three faces swam into his view, pointing and mocking, laughing at the freak. Then there was Snape, smirking maliciously in his own amusement, telling Harry in a biting tone that he was foolish for ever thinking himself a hero. Then Draco was back, bringing along the rest of the Slytherins from their year, though Nott was obviously enjoying this the most. And then abruptly, the laughter ceased and they all spoke as one in something very close to a monotone.

"Do you hate us, Harry?"

"What?" Harry said in a half whisper, slightly overwhelmed. He could hear his heartbeat almost as loudly as the people in front of him. "No, I…I mean I…" He couldn't put together a proper sentence. He was _done_ dealing with these people. The Dursleys especially had no part in his life now, so why wouldn't they leave him _alone_?

"You do, don't you? You can't hide from us, you know."

Snape reached into his robes and pulled out an old, ratty hat, which soon opened by a great rip above the brim and began to speak. "You would've done well in Slytherin, Harry," it said, but somehow it didn't sound as friendly as it had before.

"But I'm a Gryffindor," Harry countered, a bit of that famed lion bravado creeping into his voice.

"But you've always been drawn to snakes, haven't you, Potter?" Nott said, placing his hand on Draco's shoulder.

Harry nearly growled, both at the statement, and the sudden possessiveness that tore through him, even though this blonde wasn't the Draco he knew.

"After all, the house did wonders for me," spoke up a new voice from the back, and the crowd parted to let the owner of it through.

Harry's eyes flashed with several emotions and his whole body immediately tensed as he caught sight of the man with black hair and blue eyes.

"I'm not you, Tom," Harry snarled, barely feeling as his nails cut into his palms.

Tom Riddle laughed heartily. "Of course not." Harry couldn't tell whether that comment was serious or sarcastic. "But you have great power. The desire to use it is there," just like Malfoy had, Riddle began to morph until he took on the form of the snake-faced man known throughout the wizarding world as Lord Voldemort. "You just have to let it free," he hissed, though whether in parseltongue or his strange hissing tone, Harry wasn't sure.

"Shut up…" Harry whispered, backing away from the group that stared at him with various malicious expressions, some of which he had thought he would never see again.

"If you don't acknowledge your power, Harry, it will consume you," Voldemort continued, following each of Harry's steps back with one step forward.

"You're dead," Harry said, no louder than his previous words.

Another laugh, and Voldemort's lipless mouth stretched into a grin. "Am I? I will never die, so long as _you_ keep me alive."

"What are you talking about?" Harry asked, voice rising as a disconcerting mix of panic and anger settled in his stomach. "You're _dead_!"

"You can't hide from the past, Harry!" Voldemort cried, spreading his arms and including the group behind him.

"Shut up! You're DEAD!" he yelled, and suddenly the world fell away, and Harry sat bolt upright in the bed, gasping for breath and feeling a sheen of cold sweat covering his body. The amulet was glowing an almost angry red, and Harry's gaze fell to it, baffled at its significance but barely registering it.

Draco was sitting beside him, his hand suspended where it had been thrown off Harry's shoulder, and he looked a mix of surprised, relieved and scared. "You okay…?" Draco asked tentatively, as if speaking to a spooked animal.

As the rushing adrenaline faded, a near searing pain became prominent in Harry's scar, and he groaned, dropping his head onto Draco's shoulder, forcefully pushing away the image of Draco that had appeared in his dream. _This_ was his Draco.

The worried blonde reached out and pulled Harry into his lap, gasping as the boy's forehead touched his neck. "Harry!' he cried, bring his hand to the Gryffindor's cheek, "You're burning up!"

"…'s okay," Harry mumbled, curling up against Draco's chest like a child. "Jus' a bad dream…"

Hesitating only slightly, Draco asked, "Do you want to talk about it?"

Harry shook his head and wrapped his arms around Draco's waist.

"'s just the past…won't leave me 'lone," he answered to sate Draco's curiosity. He didn't want to talk. He was angry, upset, scared and apprehensive, and the onslaught of emotions, combined with the renewed pain of his scar, was making him dizzy. He vaguely noted somewhere that he was shivering, but most of his focus right now was simply on the hands running through his hair and over his back, and the soft words of comfort being whispered into his ear. He didn't want to feel the tension pushing at the surface of his conscious, or the ever more frequently occurring inclinations towards violence, anger and darkness. He clutched the medallion around his neck tightly, and felt a rush of comforting warmth flow over him, the same that was emanating from Draco. It wasn't long before he fell asleep from sheer exhaustion, clutching tightly to his boyfriend.

Draco listened as Harry's breathing evened out, never ceasing the motions of his hands. He rested his cheek atop Harry's head, sighing and causing the soft black strands to flutter in the sudden disturbance. "Oh Harry…" he whispered quietly, pulling the boy closer to him. He hadn't seen Harry look that panicked in a long time, and it felt even longer since he had held him like this. Draco was almost sure that this dream of Harry's was related to whatever was plaguing him in the waking life.

Now he hoped more than ever that his track was leading him down the right path. He wanted normal life back, he wanted _this_ back.

- - -

When Harry awoke, he found that the spot beside him had nearly completely cooled, and his hand slid across the sheets to rest in the place normally occupied by Draco. It was an oddly wistful gesture, and he closed his eyes as a nearly overwhelming sense of _something_ clutched at his heart.

But then almost immediately it was overtaken by irritation that the blonde had left him for the second morning in a row. Never mind that the first time he had been awake when Draco left. He _knew_ he shouldn't be bothered by it, which only turned his frustration onto himself.

Knowing he wasn't going to get any more sleep after that train of thought, Harry sighed heavily and pushed himself up. With a great yawn he stood up, trying to decide on what he was going to do today. He was almost hesitant to do anything; it seemed as if everything he did recently only caused anger or trouble in some way. Sure he had always had a temper, but lately everything was cause to set it off. "Breakfast…" he finally mumbled as his stomach growled, propelling him into some sort of action.

He got up and changed into clothes to wear around the house for the day before heading out of his room. He paused when he reached the door of Sara's room, and looked in on the sleeping girl. A small smile crossed his face as he watched her even breathing. It wasn't how he had imagined it years ago, when he decided he wanted to have a family after he graduated. The first reason being that then, he had imagined himself with a wife; probably Ginny. He also hadn't imagined children coming into the picture for a few more years. But he couldn't deny that he was enjoying what he had now. He wouldn't trade Draco for anyone in the world, and Sara had so easily wormed her way into his affections.

Then again, things weren't quite as they liked to appear in his head, and that was what bothered him the most. It was the family he'd always wanted, but there was trouble in paradise, apparently. He leaned his weight against the doorframe, lips turning down in a thoughtful frown as he went over the past month and a half in his head.

It gave him quite a headache when he tried to think about it, because on some far away level, he felt like something was amiss: he knew his behavior had been different. But, on a more surface level, everything felt normal; he was acting just as he was supposed to! So it rather pissed him off when Draco acted like he had issues even though, at the same time, he _realized_ that Draco was right.

Suddenly Harry groaned and pressed the heel of his palm against his forehead as a phantom pain settled into his scar. Something had shifted last night, but once again it was on a level of his subconscious that floated just beneath his realization. Trying to think about it all just gave him a headache, so Harry decided to give up the mental argument in favor of breakfast.

Harry could still sense Draco's magic signature within the manor, but at the moment he didn't feel like seeking the other boy out. If he had business to attend to, leave him to it. Though he did find himself wondering what exactly Draco _was_ doing, but he just as quickly pushed the thought away. It didn't matter.

As he stirred a bit of sugar into his tea, Harry's mind flashed back to a conversation he and Draco had had just about a week after they graduated from Hogwarts.

- - -

_Draco had been looking for Harry for fifteen minutes, searching all the rooms of the manor he thought his boyfriend might be. He could have asked a house elf, or used the manor's wards to notify him, but he really felt like just enjoying the walk. So finally, after searching most of his oversized home, Draco stepped out onto the large front porch, scoping the lawn in a continuation of his search. Finally he found his target stretched out in the lush green grass, hands folded behind his head as he stared contemplatively at the manor. _

_The Slytherin walked up to the prone figure on the ground, and laughed lightly as he nudged Harry teasingly with his foot. "Harry, love, what are you doing?"_

_A small smirk crossed Harry's lips as he moved his gaze to Draco's face. "Thinking," he answered simply. _

_Draco rolled his eyes at the vague answer before joining Harry on the ground, lying angled so that his head rested on Harry's chest. "About?" _

_One of Harry's hands came down to run through Draco's hair, something the blonde still refused to admit enjoying. "My new life, if you want to call it that." At Draco's curiously interested look, Harry elaborated. "I was just thinking about how nice it is not to be going back to the Dursleys, but at the same time not quite believing what really is happening." _

_Draco chuckled as he looked towards his childhood home. "Is that why you were staring at the manor like that?" _

_Harry's answering smile was almost indulgent. "Yeah. Come on, you can't tell me you thought this would ever happen."_

"_Harry, I thought you were through with me the day you chose to defend Weasley on the train," Draco replied, his less-than-fond feelings towards the memory apparent, despite an effort to hide it. _

_Harry really had nothing to say to that, so he didn't respond for a while as he kept up the petting of Draco's hair. "Say, Draco," Harry started as he watched a couple of birds chasing after a bug high overhead. "What are we doing?" _

_Draco raised one fair brow at the question. "We're lying outside in the middle of my front lawn and staring at the sky. Anything else you need explained while we're at it?" _

"_Oh har, har," Harry deadpanned with a poke to Draco's temple. "I don't mean at this moment, I meant what are we doing with life? The whole point of Hogwarts was to prepare us for jobs in the wizarding world. I had a clear plan set out to be an Auror." _

"_So be an Auror then," Draco replied as if it were the simplest and most obvious thing in the world. He smirked as he felt Harry's hand pause before resuming the slow – and by this point unconscious – strokes through his hair. Harry had no intentions of becoming an Auror and they both knew it. _

_Before Harry could formulate some sort of response, Draco turned over so that he rested on his elbows, and held Harry's gaze. "Are you bored?" he asked, and Harry's look turned quickly to one of confusion. _

"_Why would I be bored?" Harry answered, sounding genuinely confused. _

_Draco chuckled and flicked Harry's ear, partly for retaliation, and mostly because he could. "Your life has never been dull. There's always been some sort of drama, or someone out for your head, or you were simply putting yourself in one dangerous situation or another."_

"_Hey, I do–" Harry was quickly silenced by a finger against his lips._

"_I think you just don't know what to do with yourself, now that you can actually sit back and relax completely, without having to worry about anything. And that's getting to you, isn't it?"_

_Harry was silent for a long time, and Draco watched many expressions play across his features. But all the while, those deep green eyes stayed locked onto his own grey ones. _

_Harry, for his part, thought seriously over Draco's words. It was true that he had lived a very active and mostly adrenaline-run life; he hadn't even taken the time to notice until now. But after the final defeat of Voldemort, things had been winding down, and now…now there was nothing left for him to do. He felt like his greater purpose in life had been served, and now that it had he was left adrift in a world that no longer had need of him. _

_He knew Shacklebolt would be glad to have him on the Auror team, but he was tired of fighting the bad guys; he wanted a break from that. But did that mean a break from everything? Pursuing quidditch would throw him right back into the unwanted spotlight, but he couldn't imagine himself in a stationary job like a position in Gringotts, either. "I…guess so," Harry said in reply to Draco's question. "I knew there was a life beyond Hogwarts, but I guess I never actually thought about it."_

_Draco smiled and shook his head. "That is so like you." Harry pouted, though he knew it was true. "But you know there's no rush for you to find a job or anything."_

_Harry turned his head, studying Draco quietly. The blonde smiled in response. "We've both inherited a lot of money, so it's not like either of us needs to find a job to support ourselves. You should take this time off, gather yourself and make sure that what you end up doing is what you really want to do."_

_A half smile of appreciation was Harry's only reply as Draco leant down to kiss him soundly. He was right, there was no pressure to do anything right away, and Harry thought it might be good to give the wizarding world some time to forget about him, or at least calm its obsession with him. He stopped thinking about it as one of Draco's hands worked its way underneath the front of his shirt._

- - -

A while later, Draco had told Harry that he was taking some time off as well, but was considering taking an apprenticeship to become the potions master for Hogwarts. He would make the final decision about it later though, and that had been the end of that discussion for a while.

Soon after that, Sara had come along, and Harry considered nothing else but taking care of this child that so desperately needed his help. He wished he knew just who this mother of hers was, though, so he could have a 'word' with her on how to raise a child. Abandoning your daughter in a forgotten alley was not Harry's idea of good parenting. But that would have to wait for another day. He hoped Sara might identify her sometime soon. For now though, it was time to get her something to eat as well, as it seems she had woken up and decided to join Harry for breakfast. "Good morning, Sara," he greeted as she came in rubbing her eyes and yawning.

"'mornin' Harry," she replied with a smile as Harry started making some toast for her. After she had finished eating, she looked up to him with wide, innocent eyes and a small smile, and Harry waited for whatever she was about to ask. "Harry, can you play tiger wif me today?"

Harry chuckled, somehow amused by the irony that the form he had trained to fight was now used for a child's entertainment. "As soon as you get dressed and brush your hair, then we'll go outside and play," he answered.

"Okay!" she agreed and pushed off from the table before dashing up the grand staircase. She was a very independent girl, Harry and Draco had discovered very quickly. She was apparently used to dressing herself, entertaining herself, and sometimes even making her own meals. So he simply waited for her to come back down.

At some point while he was waiting, Harry felt the wards around the manor readjust themselves, letting Harry know that Draco had left the grounds. He tried not to focus on it too much. Luckily Sara came down soon after and he led her outside, changing into the large tiger and allowing her to sit upon his back as he trotted over the grounds.

- - -

Draco would be the first to say he had been a little tense and on-edge lately, but today he just couldn't seem to sit still for all the anxiety he felt. He awoke somewhere near five in the morning, and lay there for a long time trying to fall asleep again. But despite the warmth of Harry still settled in his arms, he was unable to do so, and finally just decided to get up and start his day.

After Draco had dressed and eaten a very small breakfast, he made his way into the lesser study; his father had claimed the much larger main study of course, and this one was more so in name only as it was more of a storage room than anything. He stood in the entryway for a few moments, looking around at the almost-organized cluster of magical items before making his way over to a cabinet in the back. When a pull on the door proved unsuccessful in opening it, he pulled out his wand with a sigh and rested it against the brass knob, whispered a short phrase in Latin, and stepped back as the door swung open.

Shaking his head at the ridiculous amount of paranoid security in this manor, he reached for the bottom shelf and pulled out a silver basin; the same one he had put away after its almost-use on Christmas. He'd forgotten the cabinet locked automatically once shut.

Once he had the pensieve set in the middle of the room, Draco closed the door of the study and moved to stand in front of the object. He frowned as he realized he had not one happy memory in relation to this pensieve, and vowed to change that at some point in the future. Lucius had used it as a sort of tool to show him exactly what it was Draco had done wrong whenever he felt a visual lesson was in order.

For the fiftieth time it seemed, Draco forcefully reminded himself that the man was gone now, and that he needed to stop living in the past. How ironic considering he was about to literally step into it. This at least brought a small smile to his lips as he touched his wand to his temple, focusing on the memory he needed to see. Once it had settled into a liquefied mist in the pensieve, Draco wasted no more time in touching his hand to the surface of the fog, and allowed himself to be dragged into his memory.

- - -

When he landed on his feet again, Draco was standing in the Slytherin boy's dorm at Hogwarts. He took a few seconds to look around with a sort of fond nostalgia. Then again, this was before the fiasco that was their seventh year. And then he was pulled from his musings by voices from the corner of the room, and he turned to look upon his fifth year self, and best friend Blaise. He stepped closer until he could hear the whispered conversation.

"_You've really got this all planned out, haven't you?" Blaise whispered as he leaned over a slightly crumpled chart, Draco's finger still pointing at the bottom corner where a little stick-figure Harry Potter was drawn with small X's for eyes. _

_The blonde smirked and removed his finger from the map to tuck a lock of stray hair behind his ear. "I'm only missing one thing."_

"_And what would that be, babe?" _

Draco cringed at Blaise's pet name, and the obvious flirtation in his voice. Honestly, the Italian hit on anything that moved; it just so happened that Draco was his favorite target. Draco was sure that, if given the chance, Blaise would have bed him in a heartbeat. He was glad he could look back now and say that he wasn't the slut some of the other Slytherins had been. He watched with detached interest as his past self simply rolled his eyes and continued with the conversation.

"_A catalyst, dear Blaise. I need a spell strong enough to cause this," and here he paused to point at another drawing of stick-figure Harry, this time walking through a door surrounded by squiggly pencil lines that might have been magic or lightning, or maybe streamers of some sort, "to be potent enough to stop Potter in his tracks."_

_Blaise's expression turned decidedly wicked, and his lips turned upwards into a gleeful smirk. "You've come to the right person. One moment please." He stood and walked over to his trunk, digging around in it for several moments until he pulled back with a small sound of victory._

Draco perked up as Blaise pulled out the very book he was looking for, and he walked over so that he was standing just at the edge of the bed the two were plotting on.

_Blaise stepped carefully back over to the bed, and tossed his treasure on top of it before taking up his spot again. _

"_What's that?" Draco asked with interest as he leaned forward to take a look at the very worn cover of the book._

"_This," Blaise said, holding up the book with one hand and showcasing it with the other, "is the answer to all of our Potter woes." _

Draco cringed at the gleeful expression that appeared on his younger counterpart's face. He liked to forget there was ever a time when he hated the boy so much. But that was in the past. He was only here to confirm a suspicion, one that would hopefully lead to him _not_ having a real reason to hate Harry now.

_Flipping through the pages of the book with expert ease, Blaise quickly found the page he was searching for and set it down on the bed so they could both read the ancient pages. _

_Draco's eyes scanned the page quickly, growing wider and more excited with each line. "Blaise, this is brilliant!" he whispered, reaching out to fold over the book so that he could read the title in fading gold on the spine. "Creative solutions to all your darkest needs…" he read aloud, eyebrows lifting as he moved his gaze to his friend. "You actually got something like this into the walls of Hogwarts?" His voice came out somewhere between surprised and impressed. _

"I knew it…" Draco whispered to himself, his gaze staying focused on the book once again lying open on the bed.

"_I keep it everywhere I go. This is a very rare book; a family heirloom. It's got a companion book that explains in more detail what the curses do and how best to use them, but it was lost a few generations back. I won't let the same happen to this one." Blaise answered to Draco's inquiry. _

"_Well then, what are we waiting for?" Draco asked as he pulled his carefully drawn plans closer and flipped to the index of the book._

_Blaise scooted closer than was necessary and rested his hand on Draco's thigh, but the other Slytherin barely noticed, too caught up in this new wealth of information._

Draco scowled at the hand on his younger self's leg, then just rolled his eyes and turned away, pulling himself from the pensieve. He'd accomplished what he needed to, and now he had a fire call to make.

As soon as Draco was back in the study, he grabbed the book he had brought from Granger's room and placed it in a large pocket on the inside of his robe. Then he left the study and made his way to his father's old office across the hallway and a few doors down. Now the office was different from the study, according to Lucius Malfoy, simply because it was for company, and as such kept presentable for guests of the manor. As much as Draco enjoyed living in a large house, he'd never held the same affinity as his father for rooms for all occasions. But this particular office had a fireplace, and so that was the room he needed.

Grabbing a bit of floo powder from the mantel, Draco tossed it into the bare fireplace, calling out Blaise's name as he did so, and knelt down before the newly-risen green flames. It only took a few moments for the other former Slytherin to walk by and see Draco's face in his fireplace. He back-tracked a couple of steps and raised an eyebrow in question. "Draco?"

"Blaise, may I come through?" Draco immediately responded, wasting no time. He waited impatiently for permission, suppressing the urge to bounce his leg or fidget in any other way.

After what seemed an eternity of waiting to Draco, Blaise finally said in a somewhat dubious voice, as if he couldn't quite believe he had just been asked that, "I suppose. Come on, then." He backed up and Draco's whole body appeared through the fire, stepping out graceful as ever and dusting stray soot from his robes.

"Thank you, Blaise," Draco said amiably, giving a small nod of his head. "I'll get straight to the point here…I need a favor from an old friend." He glanced at the other then, watching as a few different reactions passed over the Italian's features, including surprise and doubt among many others. They were subtle, as were almost all Slytherins' emotional reactions, but Draco was very adept at reading people.

"Why come to me?" Blaise finally settled on saying, crossing his arms and furrowing his brow just enough so that his skepticism of the situation was apparent. They had parted last on friendly enough terms, but they weren't as close now as Hogwarts had made them.

"Because you have something that can't be found anywhere else."

Conversation stopped for a little while then, and to an outsider it might have looked like a curt dismissal. Blaise studied Draco, and the blonde was aware everything from his expression to his posture was being studied and analyzed. It was a basic skill for all Slytherins and so he did nothing to discourage it. After a simultaneously long and short moment, Blaise spoke. "What is it, then?"

Draco allowed a small smile of appreciation to show. "That book that you have – Creative Solutions to All Your Darkest Needs – do you still have it?"

Blaise raised an eyebrow in skeptical curiosity as he led them further into his own manor. "What on earth have you been up to, Draco, to need that book?"

Draco sighed, the sound a slight huff of impatience. He didn't want to be questioned right now; questioning was what _he_ was doing. "I've got a few issues with dark curses around the manor," he said smoothly, "and it's something a little beyond what I'm used to dealing with." Well it definitely wasn't a lie, and he put enough inflection into the last part of the statement to hint to Blaise that he was pretty sure it was the Dark Lord he was dealing with.

The dark-haired boy's eyes widened almost imperceptibly, and he considered for a moment before nodding stiffly. "Will you consider this my debt paid to you for the time you covered for me to the Dark Lord?" he asked, even as he led Draco to his home's small library.

Blinking slightly as Draco recalled the memory, he finally let a small smirk show. He had nearly forgotten about that little event, actually. "As long as you keep our dealings between the two of us, consider all debts paid."

"Done and done," Blaise replied as he tapped his wand against a shelf on the wall, causing it to turn around. He counted some number of books from the end of the shelf that Draco didn't follow and finally pulled off the one he was looking for. "Now then," he said as he turned around, his expression completely serious, "I am trusting you with one of my most valuable possessions here."

One pale brow rose, but he wisely decided not to comment. Blaise put an almost ridiculous amount of importance on this book, but considering it was the very important thing he needed right now, well, he wasn't going to bite the hand that fed him. "Have I ever proven myself to be untrustworthy before?"

Blaise seemed to consider for a moment, and Draco was slightly worried that he would say yes. "Not to those who didn't deserve it," he said finally and Draco nodded once. "Do let me know if this helps," Blaise said as he handed the book over.

"Of course," Draco replied. After all, it's not as if he planned to steal the book and never speak to his old friend again. "Thank you again, Blaise. I really appreciate this."

A single nod was his reply. "Don't mention it. Just take care; dealing with things in that book can be nasty business."

"Duly noted," Draco responded as they made their way back to the main entrance. "I will return this as soon as possible."

"Good luck, Draco," Blaise said as Draco grabbed the floo powder, and the blonde nodded, allowing a small smile to show as he exited the Zabini's manor. A fleeting memory surfaced in his mind of a time when he used to tease the other boy about his home not being as grand as the Malfoy's place. It was such a juvenile thought to him now, and he pushed it from his mind as he stepped off the lawn and outside the wards.

- - -

With both valuable books now in his possession, Draco apparated straight back to Hermione's house. "Granger, I – ugh!"

Ron and Hermione jumped apart, both flush in the face and wearing the proverbial 'deer caught in the headlights' expression. "Draco!" Hermione cried in surprise, straightening out her shirt and clearing her throat awkwardly. "You're, um…you're back."

"Yes I am," he replied, resisting with everything he had the urge to reply with something sarcastic. "And now it's time to figure out what's wrong with Harry," he stated, leaving no room for argument.

"Can't it wait…?" Ron grumbled, though he sounded as if he was already resigned to business now.

Draco smirked at his tone and set the two books on the bed in the space Ron and Hermione had made between them. "Nope. The sooner we get this done, the sooner I will stop bothering you," he said in reply and, predictably, Ron perked up immediately.

"Alright then, show us what you found!" the redhead said as he leaned over to look at the books.

"Yes, let's not do this for Harry's sake or anything…" Hermione mumbled from Draco's other side, and his lips quirked in amusement. "Oh my!" she exclaimed suddenly, picking up the book Draco had just retrieved. "This…this is the other one, isn't it!"

"Yes, it is," Draco replied, delicately taking the book from her hand. "And Blaise will kill me if anything happens to it. Now then…." He trailed off as he opened the old tome and turned to the front, annoyed when he found no index. "Would you say behavior changes would be more of a possession, or an influence?" Draco asked aloud as he read over the names of many spells that had him shuddering simply from their titles.

Hermione made a thoughtful noise and put a finger to her chin. "What kind of behavior change?" she asked instead of answering.

"Mental," Draco responded almost immediately, not even looking up from his task.

"Try influence then."

Ron watched as the two of them worked; they obviously had this under control. He jumped when Draco suddenly made a strange noise – it might've been and excited cry – and pointed to something in the book, causing both of Harry's closest friends to lean over and take a look. "I think this might be it…" Draco said, his eyes scanning the page eagerly as the other two read over his shoulder, each of them hoping for this spell to be the answer.

- - -

Harry played with Sara for a while before announcing it was lunch time and leading them back into the manor. "Will you be okay here for a little bit?" Harry asked her as she settled down with a turkey sub made by the elves.

The girl grinned and nodded, idly swinging her feet beneath the table. Harry ruffled her hair before exiting the dining area, not really having a set destination in mind. He was tired…the very air seemed heavier today. The small smile he'd kept up for Sara fell and turned to an annoyed frown. It even felt like his own magic weighed more, and he was pretty sure that wasn't even possible…

Something silver flashed in the corner of his eye, and Harry stopped to inspect it. It only took one glance to realize it was Draco's pensieve, set in the middle of the room and looking quite forgotten.

Looking both ways cautiously, even though he knew Draco was nowhere in the manor, Harry stepped inside the room, not really caring to look at his surroundings, and stared instead into the swirling silver mist inside the basin. It wasn't like Draco to leave stuff just laying around.

Curious despite himself – a curse that had gotten him into trouble many times before, actually – he touched the surface of the mist and watched it ripple before he was sucked into a memory.

He didn't know what he was expecting when he decided to snoop into Draco's memories, but it hadn't quite been this. He started out slightly amused at Draco's stick-figure master plans, but his mood fast switched to jealousy as he watched Blaise shamelessly flirt with _his_ boyfriend. Never mind that they had been the bitterest of schoolboy rivals at that time.

By the time Blaise's hand landed on the younger Draco's thigh, Harry was pissed. What possible reason could Draco have for bringing up a memory like this anyway? Did he miss those times? Perhaps he would rather have Zabini than Harry?

Well. Now he was pissed _and_ upset. With a frustrated growl, Harry pulled himself from the memory, something purely dark settling over him; something that felt foreign and natural all at once.

Retracing his steps much faster than he had taken the path to that pensieve, Harry made his way back to the dining room quickly. "Sara, come with me."

Sara's eyes widened and she couldn't help the small movement she made to scoot backwards in her chair. Harry was suddenly…scary. But she figured that disobeying him wouldn't be wise, so she got up and placed her hand hesitantly in the one he held out to her. He nodded sharply and apparated them both away.

They arrived in a house that looked as if it had seen much better days: the furniture was dusty, the floors were creaky, the walls were cracked and the whole place just seemed gray and dark and completely uninviting. Harry seemed unaffected by any of this.

"Where is this?" Sara asked in a whisper, looking around and scooting closer to Harry despite the frightening aura he was giving off.

Harry glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, allowing her to fist her hands in his shirt. "This is called Grimmauld Place. It belonged to my godfather, and he left it to me," he explained simply.

"O-oh…Why did we come here?"

Harry's eyes narrowed and his frown turned to more of a scowl. "…inspiration, if you will."

Sara didn't even want to ask.

So when the girl was silent, Harry held a finger to his lips so she would keep quiet as they passed possibly the worst painting to ever grace mankind. They walked through a few more hallways towards the library – Harry's intended destination – but he stopped short of his target when he noticed Sara had stopped following him. He turned around to ask her why she stopped but was silent when he saw the thoughtful, puzzled expression on her face.

"Mamma," she whispered, tilting her head to the side.

"What?" Harry's eyes widened as he stepped back over to her. This was a random time to bring up that subject.

"Mamma," she said again, this time pointing to an oddly still picture that Harry would've wished to be anywhere but in that spot where little Sara's finger was pointing. Because as he followed her indication, his eyes landed on the scowling face of Bellatrix Lestrange. Suddenly all thoughts of revenge on Draco were forgotten, and Harry's head met with the wall harshly in sheer exasperation. This was _so_ not his day.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Weeee, chapter 6 done! Next chapter I'll be doing some wrapping up of things, I guess. Or if not that, then there will at least be answers and explanations as to where exactly Sara came from, and why Harry's been having the worst mood swings in the history of mood swings. Poor guy. I feel for him.

After I finish this story, half of my attention is going to be divided back into my still most beloved fandom…Kingdom Hearts. I just can't leave it alone for too long, lol. The other half will still be on Harry Potter, since there's a couple other plots I'm working on. Hopefully I'll have time to actually work on this now that I have a job _plus_ school. Ugh. Oh well. New car yay! And for now, toodles!


	7. Theories and Progress

A/N: Well, you know how it goes…busy life, writer's block and all that. The usual excuses. Luckily, a review and a well-written story suddenly jump-started my inspiration again for this story, so here's the next chapter! Thanks as always to my beta: 13thMoonWitch, and thank you all for your reviews.

_***beta's note: so, Amber told me she's felt like the chapter sucks…but I couldn't find a blowjob scene anywhere. No idea what else she could be on about. =3***_

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**Chapter 7: Theories and Progress**

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"Weasley…" Draco growled, pinching the bridge of his nose with two fingers. "For the last time, it cannot. Be. Possession!"

Ron scowled and jabbed a finger at the book Hermione owned, indicating the page that went into more detail about possession of minds and souls. It gave him the heebie-jeebies just reading about it. "But look! All the descriptions fit, don't they? Attitude changes, odd behavior, unusual and typically more violent tendencies…." He moved his finger over each point as they were made on the page, as if it they shouldn't even be necessary to prove what he was saying.

"Look," Draco said with finality, waving his hand towards the other book of spells that was also opened to the section pertaining to possession. When Draco's first guess had turned out to be a dud after a little research into it, he and Hermione had argued for a while over different ideas and theories. Ron had finally gotten fed up with it and grabbed the two books, turning them to his own ideas and starting to argue a completely different point, trying to cover all sides. "Have you seen the power of Harry's unlocked magic?" Draco asked him.

"Um…duh," Ron answered. After all, Harry had left their memories intact after erasing the memories of the student body of Hogwarts, and shortly after apparating within the wards.

"And look," Draco continued as his eyes moved over the spell description in the book. "It says here that for a successful, complete possession, the caster must be able to overpower the victim. There is no wizard or witch on earth right now that can overpower Harry."

"You don't know that for certain…" Hermione butted in hesitantly, not wanting to doubt her friend, but always trying to keep things objective.

"Okay…" Draco conceded reluctantly, "but the odds are ridiculously low. Not only that, but a successful possession is marked by an almost complete turn-around in behavior, a.k.a. acting like the person that cast the spell. He still acts like Harry, just … a less … amiable Harry."

"Of course you'd know all about this stuff, wouldn't you," Ron muttered with a narrowed gaze.

Draco's eyes flashed, but he suppressed the anger in favor of a smirk. "As a matter of fact, I would. Care to see just how much I know?" He pulled his wand from his pocked and raised it threateningly.

Ron looked as if he were about to retort with something nasty, but Hermione interrupted. "Boys! Behave! We're trying to figure out Harry's problems here, not create more amongst ourselves."

The Slytherin among them didn't even give a verbal reply as he pocketed his wand again and lowered his eyes back to the books before them, flipping to the pages they had first talked about, again searching for something useful.

"So what do _you_ think it is, then?" Ron finally asked in a grudgingly more polite tone.

"I've told you my best guess. It had to have been something that Harry's magic wouldn't fight; something that could get under his skin, in a manner of speaking, and take hold without anybody realizing."

Hermione frowned and tucked a stray bit of hair behind her ear as she leaned over to scan the pages that Draco was looking at. "But what do you think could do that?"

"That's what I'm trying to figure out…"

"What about blood magic?" Ron asked into the quiet room, and Draco looked up sharply.

"What?" the blonde asked on a breath. Surely not.

"You know, when you use blood to cast–"

"I _know_ what it is, dimwit."

"But don't you think we would know if Harry had been involved in any sort of blood magic rituals or the like lately?" Hermione cut in before the boys could once again start arguing. They'd never become friends really, but today they were just being ridiculous.

Draco hummed his agreement as he thought about it. "Blood magic is usually complicated, and typically requires a lot of time and effort. I haven't really noticed him disappearing long enough to be working on something so involved. But…the idea has merit. Though I wish it didn't."

"Supposing it actually is some sort of blood magic," Hermione started, sounding regretfully accepting of the idea, "how do you suppose it could be done?"

"Well, there's blood involved," Draco drawled, losing patience quickly.

"I'm trying to cover everything thoroughly," Hermione snapped, wondering for a moment how, of all people, Harry had managed to fall for this insufferably impatient boy.

Draco sighed, and visibly calmed. "I know. It just…makes me uneasy."

Deflating slightly at the sight of Draco's worried expression – no matter how much he tried to hide it – Hermione smiled sympathetically and turned back to the books lying on the bed, flipping through the pages slowly until she reached the ones that talked about blood magic.

That was as far as she got before a pop echoed through the room, and everyone looked to the center of it in surprise, where Harry now stood, looking a terrible mix of apprehensive, dreading and shocked. "Finally!" he said, turning to Draco and placing his hands on the blonde's shoulders. "I've been looking all over for you."

"Is everything okay, Harry?" Hermione asked from behind and Harry turned around quickly to face her.

"You know what?" Harry said and sat down heavily on the bed. "I don't know anymore."

"What happened, mate?" Ron asked as Draco took a seat beside the distraught boy.

"Bellatrix Lestrange."

Draco's eyes widened and he leaned forward. "What?" he whispered disbelievingly, for the second time that night.

"That's exactly what_ I _said," Harry replied, looking up and noticing he had the rapt attention of all three in the room. "I was walking through Grimmauld Place, when I noticed Sara wasn't following me anymore and I–"

"Why were you at Grimmauld Place?" Hermione cut in, and Harry stopped mid-sentence. His eyes darted to Draco before he quickly looked away again.

"It doesn't matter." He took a breath to continue, but was interrupted by Draco this time.

"Where is Sara now, then?"

"I left her at the manor," Harry replied with a wave of his hand. "Any more questions?" he added with a pointed look at Ron. The redhead just shrugged, waiting for Harry to continue his story. "Right then, so when I went back to see what had stopped her, she just pointed to this picture of Lestrange and said 'Mamma.'"

"So what did you do?" Ron asked, and Harry was glad he had at least waited until he finished his sentence.

"Freaked out, took her back to the manor, then spent the next ten minutes searching for Draco."

"Bellatrix Lestrange is a mother?" Hermione asked, wrinkling her nose. The thought didn't settle well with any of them.

"Who's the father, then?" Ron asked, and Harry grimaced.

"Please, Ron, I don't even want to think about that."

"Well, we sort of have to, don't we?" Draco cut in, torn between dreading what this could mean, and feeling triumphant that he _knew_ something wasn't right about this 'Sara–situation', as he now dubbed it.

"Do you think Voldemort was involved?" Hermione asked, and immediately all three boys grimaced.

"Thanks, 'Mione, now I'm scarred for life," Ron groaned.

"Oh, you started it," the girl immediately replied.

"Guys," Harry interrupted before their banter could go any further, "focus?"

"Sorry," they mumbled. Hermione looked up and scrutinized Harry, causing him to look at her warily. "Are you feeling alright Harry?"

He took a moment to be confused before he answered. "I'm…fine? Why?" It was the truth; overall he felt perfectly fine, considering the situation.

Hermione shrugged and gave an awkwardly innocent smile, which made Harry more suspicious of the question than anything. "No reason, just checking up on a friend I rarely get to see anymore, now that you're off living with Draco."

Harry lifted a finger and opened his mouth to speak, but stopped short of actual words and lowered his hand again. After all, he couldn't argue with the fact that he _had_ been spending most of his time with Draco. Sort of. "Well...life's been a little crazy," he finally decided to say, and Draco rolled his eyes beside him.

"There's the understatement of the year," the Slytherin quipped, causing the others to laugh, trying to ease at least a little bit of the tension in the room.

Suddenly Harry looked confused and glanced between the room's occupants as if just now seeing them all. "What are _you_ three doing together anyway? I wasn't aware you had all become friends."

"Oh, we're no-"

Ron didn't get to finish his denial before Hermione threw her arm around his shoulders, then pulled him over so she could pull Draco to her other side. She drew them both in close and grinned. "Sure we are!" she said just a little too cheerfully. "We thought it would be easier for everyone if we learned to get along and wouldn't you know it, it's not so bad after all!"

Harry didn't know whether to be confused, skeptical, worried or just greatly amused. His eyes moved over Draco's slightly annoyed and very unconvincing smile, to Hermione's exaggerated grin and to Ron who was caught between a fake smile and rolling his eyes, and Harry finally decided not to feel anything about it at all. "You know what?" he said and stood up. "I really don't want to know. I just...bloody hell, what am I going to do about this. With everything else going on, I'd forgotten all about Lestrange!"

Hermione sighed and released the two boys, who seized the chance to scoot well out of grabbing range. "I think everybody sort of did. With all the excitement of Voldemort being gone, she was probably able to lay low for a while until the whole ordeal blew over."

"You don't think she'll try to pick up where Voldemort left off…do you?" Ron questioned into the tense silence.

Harry scowled and, without warning, stood and apparated out of the room, leaving the other three to wonder what had gotten into him so suddenly.

"Wasn't he just the one that came in here desperately searching for Malfoy?" Ron pointed out rhetorically.

Draco let out a frustrated sigh. "This has got to stop. Weasley, Granger, come with me. We need to pay a visit to a certain Headmaster's portrait."

"Dumbledore?" Hermione asked, and Draco nodded without turning around as he began making his way towards the door. She turned and grabbed the two books off the bed before following Draco, and Ron stepped in line behind her.

They used the floo network to get there, and Draco didn't even bother checking to see if the office was occupied before he stepped through.

"Mr. Malfoy?" McGonagall questioned as he stepped through the fireplace. "And Ms. Granger and Mr. Weasley? What's going on, has something happened?" she asked as she noticed their expressions, varying from frustration to determination.

Dumbledore looked up curiously from his place in his portrait, discreetly setting aside his scroll of 'useless advice for all occasions' as Draco had once put it, in the wake of an upcoming serious conversation.

"It's about Harry," Draco said, wasting no time in getting to the point.

"Oh my," McGonagall responded absently, conjuring chairs for the three of them. "What is it?" she asked, moving aside papers and folding her hands on her desk.

"That's the problem, professor," Hermione started, leaning forward and looking between McGonagall and Dumbledore. "We're not entirely sure."

At the woman's raised brows, Ron stepped in to try and explain further. "He's been acting really strange, and we think it's being caused by some sort of dark magic."

"Possibly blood magic," Draco added, not missing how Dumbledore's eyes widened the slightest bit behind his glasses.

"And what made you jump to such conclusions?" McGonagall asked, sounding appalled that her former students would even think about speaking of dark magic. Nevermind the fact that they were all deeply involved in the war.

"Minerva, if I may?" Dumbledore cut in before the teens could respond, though all three had opened their mouths to explain. At McGonagall's stiff nod, Dumbledore studied his former students over the rim of his glasses and through the portrait. "You say he's been acting strange?" At three affirmative nods, he asked, "In what way?"

Hermione and Ron turned to Draco, since out of the three of them, he had spent the most time with Harry. "Well, he's become…well, I suppose irritable is the best word for it. We all know he has a temper, but it's usually justified in one way or another. Now it's almost as if he's looking for reasons to snap. He's more aggressive and he's looking more and more worn, stressed. It all started when he picked up that- the girl, Sara." He had been about to say 'stupid girl,' but thought it would probably be a little inappropriate at the moment.

"A girl?" McGonagall questioned and Draco resisted the urge to cringe, remembering that Harry had brought her home because he didn't want to take her to McGonagall. But there was nothing for it now; this situation was fast spiraling out of his, or any of their, control.

"Yes ma'am," he replied. "It was at the ceremony where he received the Order of Merlin. He says that she had been sent to him by her mother for protection, even though the mother was nowhere to be found."

"Yeah, because she's a lowlife Death Eater that's only ever had it in for Harry!" Ron suddenly exclaimed, causing all eyes to immediately turn to him.

"What do you mean?" McGonagall asked, looking cautiously curios.

"We found out today that the girl's mother is Bellatrix Lestrange," Hermione informed her, and Draco didn't think he'd ever seen such an expression of shock on the elder woman's face.

McGonagall recovered her composure after a moment, and scrutinized the young adults before her. "And you say this behavior change started once this girl was introduced to him?"

Draco nodded in answer. "She appealed to every bit of Harry's hero complex," he grumbled, showing what he'd thought of the situation from the beginning. "So of course, he just couldn't resist taking her home and caring for her, probably needing another … project, now that Voldemort was gone or something."

If Ron and Hermione didn't know how much he cared, they would probably get onto him for that remark. As it was, the blonde was obviously very bothered by this entire situation. Hermione decided to speak up, since McGonagall hadn't yet replied. "We looked up other possible causes, but blood magic is the only one that seems plausible. But…we don't know how it could have been used on him without anyone, especially himself, being aware of it." The frustration at not being able to find the answers was evident in Hermione's tone, and she bit her lip anxiously after her statement.

"Minerva." At Dumbledore's soft, but obviously pointed request for her attention, she turned and regarded the man in the portrait, who looked more serious than she had seen him since the war. "If I may, I have a theory."

Ron, Hermione and Draco all immediately focused on the man, and he blinked at the sudden attention. "Yes, well, it's just a theory," he said, clearing his throat, "but I have a feeling it has to do with something that happened between Voldemort and Harry a few years ago. Please, give me time to look into this, and I will let you all know what I find," he said, sitting in his chair and pressing his fingertips together.

There was a heavy pause, until Draco muttered, "That's it?" He looked a little angry, and his hand clenched into a fist on his knee. "You're just going to send us away like that? Come on, you're supposed to know everything!"

"Draco," Hermione cut in, placing her hand on his shoulder. "He's still helping us."

Draco let out his breath in a rush and stood up. "I know. Sorry, Professor," he said with a quick glance at the portrait, annoyed to see the man's blue eyes twinkling even in the painting. "I'm…just going to go back to the manor now."

"Are you sure that is wise?" McGonagall asked, looking concerned. With a sharp movement, Draco spun on his heel and looked at the headmistress with a cross of incredulity and just plain surprise. At the boy's expression, she decided to explain. "If this is the work of dark magic, then I'm not sure it is the best idea to so blatantly expose yourself. You could become affected as well."

Frowning, Draco shrugged, a gesture that showed he knew the consequences but planned on ignoring them anyway. "I've been around him for a month already…anything that's going to happen to me has probably already happened." He was overcome with a sudden weariness of the entire situation, and placed his hand on the doorframe with a sigh. "Just contact me as soon as you find something out, ok?"

"Of course, Mr. Malfoy," McGonagall replied, concern evident in her voice as they all watched him walk out of the room in lower spirits than he had entered.

- - -

It seemed all that could happen with the situation, though, had not happened, as Draco was slowly realizing. The kicker of it all was that he didn't know exactly what _was_ happening. Not that that was unusual lately. Only now it wasn't just Harry…Draco was starting to feel the effects of…whatever it was, too.

Draco felt as if he were being dragged down, somehow. He could have sworn he used to have more energy, but now he was finding himself stopping in the middle of the day for a nap, or to simply sit for a while. It was rather disconcerting, because he might be a somewhat spoiled rich boy, but he wasn't lazy.

It didn't help anything that Harry was hardly talking to him now. Hell, it was getting to the point where he rarely even _saw_ the boy, even if he was within the manor walls! Sara wasn't sure what to do, and seemed to somehow think everything was her fault. And Draco hated every moment that he tried to tell her it wasn't because it _was,_ damn it all, and he really hoped Dumbledore or whoever else would find a solution to this entire situation soon because he might just go mad if things continued as they were. As it was, two weeks had passed since that visit to Hogwarts. Two very long, very tiresome weeks.

In order to keep tensions as low as possible, Draco had stopped actively seeking out Harry's company, much as it pained him to do so. He didn't like just ignoring problems, but he just didn't have the energy for confrontations with an irritated, irrational, most-powerful-in-the-world wizard, as it were.

Interestingly enough, this night _Harry_ found _him_ as he was sitting in the library, passing the time by trying to see if he could find anymore clues as to what was going on. He knew it was an almost hopeless endeavor, but it eased his anxiety just a little if he felt like he was at least trying to be productive. But now Harry had entered the doors to the library, and stood leaning against the frame, looking impressively passive, and entirely too predatory for Draco's comfort. The stalking, smooth movements of a tiger controlled every movement of Harry's muscles, and Draco swallowed, closing the book in his fingers nervously.

Harry's eyes shifted to take in the book's title, and Draco surreptitiously shoved it aside. Harry lifted an eyebrow, but said nothing. He stayed silent as he settled into Draco's lap, placing his hands on the blonde's chest. There was no warning before his lips crashed onto Draco's.

Willingly, almost desperately, Draco gave in to the assault. Had something happened? Maybe Harry was better now? But that notion was immediately thrown out the window with a sharp cry as Harry bit into his lip, licking at the blood that flowed from the new wound. "Harry…" he whispered, but was cut off again by a kiss that could barely be called a kiss. Not that Draco didn't appreciate the occasional rough play, but this – _fuck, those teeth hurt!_ – this felt more like an attack. He couldn't feel any of the love he knew should be behind those darkened green eyes. He jerked his head back and said more firmly, "Harry!"

The dark-haired boy was unfazed as Draco pushed against his chest. Instead it only seemed to fuel his sudden, unbidden lust and he nipped at Draco's jaw, ear and neck, using teeth to hurt as much as to pleasure. He let out a low growl as Draco managed to push him back a couple of inches. Green eyes snapped to grey, and Draco tried to keep his expression from shifting into fear as he fought to regain steady breathing. "What's the matter Draco," Harry practically purred, and he decided to skip the foreplay and shifted so that he could rub Draco slowly through his pants. The blonde gasped and Harry increased the pressure of his hand. "Don't you want me?"

"Harry…" Draco said for the third time, wondering if he had forgotten how to speak entirely. "What…oh…" He shook his head, trying to clear it. A part of him was calling himself crazy for his thoughts, but something about this was _wrong_. He forced himself to think past the sensation of pleasure trying to fog his brain, and wondered at how difficult thinking actually seemed to _be_ at the moment. Usually he had more control over himself than this. "Why are you doing this?" he finally managed.

Harry's movements stilled, and Draco almost wanted to tell the boy to forget he'd said anything if only he would keep going. "Why Draco," Harry said and his voice was low and _fuck_ if that wasn't the sexiest bedroom voice Draco had ever heard… "What reason do I need for a little fun with my own boyfriend?"

Something in that struck Draco the wrong way, and his eyes flashed. Perhaps it was that Harry dismissed the question as nothing, or maybe the way he said 'fun' as if it involved a sadistic sort of glee, but it was just made obvious that this was in no way _his_ Harry. He redoubled his resistance, and shoved at Harry's chest, causing the boy to tumble backwards onto the floor. The medallion glowed and Harry hissed as he grabbed the chain, holding it away from his chest. Draco felt a strange tug at the same moment, and his eyes widened before narrowing suspiciously at the object that was once again an innocent-looking pendant. Great…the _last_ thing they needed was more weird, unexplainable magical happenings.

Draco was sufficiently distracted from his thoughts when Harry, recovering from the shock of being so unceremoniously thrown to the floor, pinned him with a glare that rivaled any they had exchanged when they were known enemies. Draco was a little shocked to see it, but he suppose he should've expected it on some level, considering the way things had been digressing around the manor. Harry stood in a sudden movement, and Draco's hand reflexively reached for his wand, shocking the both of them.

There was a long, pregnant pause between the two, and Draco held his breath under the intensity of the fiery gaze set on him. Then, just like that, the moment was over and Harry spun on his heel and left the room without another word.

Stunned, Draco shakily released the air from his lungs, and slid out of the chair to his knees on the floor. What in Merlin's name just happened? He had a feeling their relationship had just taken a serious beating, and now he was just starting to hope that they could both come out of this more or less intact and still on good terms. Staying sane would be a nice plus, too.

After taking a few moments to calm down again, Draco stood, smoothing down his robes in a reflexive habit as he thought of what he should do. He dearly wished he knew more about that amulet he had given to Harry, because that couldn't have been a coincidence earlier. But what did that have to do with everything else that was going on? He blinked as he recalled a hall of the manor containing portraits of several of the Malfoy line, and he wondered if they would know anything about it. After all, the piece of jewelry was a well-valued family heirloom. Well, it wouldn't hurt anything to check, anyway.

He seemed to be consulting a lot of portraits lately, Draco mused as he made his way to the rarely-visited portrait hall. When he opened the door, he was greeted with an amount of frames comparable to that of the headmaster's office at Hogwarts, and he suddenly had the attention of many pairs of eyes, most varying in shades of blue and grey. He cleared his throat, and adjusted his posture into the prideful indifference that had been instilled in him at a young age, willingly or otherwise. "I need some information about an heirloom," he stated boldly, confidently, and smiled inwardly when many of the portraits showed interest, and a willingness to hear him out. He explained a vague – oh so vague – outline of the situation, and peered intently at his ancestors after he had finished.

"That sounds similar to a situation I once found myself in," one of the portraits replied after a pause, and Draco thought it might have been a great-great uncle of his.

"What happened?" Draco asked, truly curious.

"Well, it happened to my fiancé at the time – I had given her the amulet as our marriage promise. She contracted a rare sort of sickness that directly attacks a wizard's magic, bypassing normal biology entirely. There was…no known cure." It seemed to pain the man to say this, and Draco smiled jut a little bit. And his father said that Malfoys don't marry for love. Though he did wonder what this had to do with the amulet. He was about to open his mouth to ask when the man spoke again.

"I could only stand by and watch as the sickness infected her magic, which caused her physical health to begin deteriorating as well. We thought the entire situation was hopeless until one morning, as I held onto her, the amulet began glowing. We thought nothing of it, but it began happening more. She said it was warm, and felt sometimes as if it emitted healing magic. At the same time, I noticed that I was often lacking of energy."

Draco's eyes widened at the similarity of their situations. "And this lack of energy…was because of the amulet?" he asked, receiving a nod in response.

"We looked into it, and discovered that it was drawing upon my magic in an attempt to keep hers stable." He paused for a moment, as if in thought, and Draco resisted the urge to bounce on his toes.

"Did – did it work?" he finally asked, and the man in the painting looked up, abruptly pulled from wherever his thoughts had taken him.

"I'm not entirely sure what happened. Whether it was solely the powers of the amulet or not, she did eventually get better."

"You always were such a sentimental fool, Maric," an older painting pointed out, and Draco's attention shifted to him. The first man – now known as Maric – seemed unfazed.

"And you were always jealous of me, Grandfather."

Draco wanted to laugh. He could learn to like this Maric.

"In my day," _oh, the clichés_, "that amulet was put to good use."

"How so?" Draco asked, and tried not to look intimidated when the old man turned to regard him. Eyes _that_ piercing should be illegal on a portrait.

"I never entertained notions of that annoying family tradition of giving one of our most prized possessions to my 'true love,'" he said, and Draco thought he sounded like a grouch. "I wore that amulet to protect myself in duels. It seems to have a penchant for absorbing harmful magic, though at the expense of a drain on the owner's own magic."

"Which is why you're not supposed to wear it yourself," another man chimed in. Draco wondered at the lack of females in the hall. "One commonality in our experiences, it would seem, is that it draws upon our own magic to ward off harmful magic from our intended. Or, in Weldon's case, himself," he said, referring to the old man.

"So the general consensus," Draco interrupted before they could all get into a debate, "is that it protects from harmful magic?"

"As the case may be, yes," Maric answered him.

"Okay," Draco said, already starting to lose himself to thought and speculation. "Thank you all." He bowed his head and exited the room, closing the door to the lingering chatter. _Well, that would explain why I've been so tired lately,_ he thought to himself. But…Harry didn't seem to be getting any better, and he could only lament the fact that whatever magic was affecting his dark-haired lover was stronger than what Draco could heal.

"Of course it is," he mumbled bitterly to himself as he made his way through the manor. "Most powerful wizard in the world…what a pain that's turning out to be."

As he wandered back to more frequented territory – it seemed his feet were taking him towards the dining hall in his state of absent-mindedness – he began to realize just how empty the manor felt. He furrowed his brow, and reached into his connection with the wards, suddenly realizing he was the sole living being in the manor, aside from the house elves. Apparently Harry had left…and he'd taken Sara with him. Draco fought to quell the surge of panic that threatened to overtake him when he sorted through all the possibilities of reasons Harry would have for doing this.

- - -

Harry, as it was, hadn't even any reasons for his actions in his own mind. In fact, he'd given up trying to find them about a week ago. There were no reasons, no explanations, no motives that he could find, only an unquenchable desire to _do_. Do what? He wasn't quite sure. But it was like an itch under his skin that crawled beneath the surface of his consciousness and tried its best to drive him mad. And frankly, it was succeeding.

Heavy boots crunched over leaves and twigs as he forged a path through unkempt underbrush behind Grimmauld Place. Sara was inside with a few toys he'd conjured up to keep her busy for a while. Why had he come here? He didn't want to be here. But he'd had to get away, and this seemed to be the only place that assured him solitude. What he'd done to Draco, what he'd almost done…_gods_…he shuddered as he remembered the primal desire that had driven him into Draco's presence. He had been trying to avoid his boyfriend, because whenever he caught sight of those sharp grey eyes, whatever feelings stirred within him were intensified ten-fold, and it was getting to a point where they'd almost begun to feel natural. That this seemed to incite a dark lust above all other things was an unfortunate effect. After all, a situation like that could prove interesting if those same feelings didn't feel so decidedly evil.

With a huff, Harry changed directions, pacing back and forth over what might have been a well-tended garden at some point. His fingers twitched in irritation, and a scowl marred his lips for reasons he wasn't even consciously aware of. He suddenly sat down in the grass, tucking his head between his knees and clasping his hands behind his neck. He was becoming so tired of fighting himself. "Draco…" he whispered to the uncaring ground. After a few moments, he dropped his hands, and abruptly pulled his left back up when it landed on something that felt less than pleasant against the skin. He turned to look at the offending object, and furrowed his brow as he saw a plant a few inches tall, with spiked leaves and a pale purple flower. He stared at it for a long time, and the world around him seemed to fade away as he reached forward to brush his fingers across the petals. It was…soothing, and he could only assume that the plant was magical. Finally he shook his head, and pulled away as if the flower had offended him. He'd had enough of things messing with his mind for one lifetime, thank you very much.

- - -

Three days. Three days passed as Draco forced himself to stay calm. Or a semblance of calm. Well, he tried anyway. He'd lost count of how many times he had to talk himself out of going after Harry. He knew – he _knew_ – it wouldn't do any good even if he found him. That didn't stop him from thinking about it, though. He went over so many scenarios about what he could do upon meeting up with Harry again that he actually dreamt about it. So when that owl tapped on the window of his bedroom, where he was at the moment, he nearly tripped over his own robes as he scrambled to let the bird in.

The owl gave a reproachful hoot as Draco nearly ripped the parchment from its claws, and it flew away in a flurry of agitation. Draco didn't care; his attention was already on the letter in his hands.

_Mr. Malfoy,_

_Please meet me in my office this evening at 8p.m. _

_Minerva McGonagall_

_Headmistress of Hogwarts_

Draco blinked. Well that was certainly terse. He looked up at the ornate clock on the opposite wall, noting that it was a quarter till seven. He bit his lower lip anxiously, his mind already running away with new scenarios to contemplate. The letter hadn't even told him whether she had good news or bad, or whether they had discovered anything at all. He hoped, for the sake of his sanity if nothing else, that the news was good. …he missed Harry. Sighing, Draco pulled his broom down from the special stand that held both his and Harry's and began walking outside. He could apparate, but that would involve waiting, and he hoped flying there could keep him occupied enough so that he didn't drive himself mad with speculation.

He made good time, seeing as he had the fastest broom on the market, and his preoccupation spurred him to faster speeds than he usually settled for. He flew up to the front doors of Hogwarts, and rested his broom over his shoulder as he walked through the hallways, tracing a familiar path to the McGonagall's office. When he arrived at the gargoyle, it leapt aside before he could even open his mouth to say that he hadn't been given the password. Raising one brow at the statue, he dismissed it and stepped onto the moving staircase, taking a deep breath as he rose to the top. Without bothering to knock – it seems he was expected anyway – Draco opened the door, and paused slightly when Weasley, Granger, McGonagall and Severus all turned to look at him. "Am I late?" he asked, more to stop everyone from staring, than for an actual desire for an answer.

"Not at all, my boy," Dumbledore's portrait said, but the tone was not as jovial as it usually was when the man greeted people.

Draco frowned. If Dumbledore was being grave, then he wasn't looking forward to this meeting. He briefly wondered why Snape was there, and met the man's unreadable gaze for a moment before looking forward again and taking a deep breath. Whatever it was…he didn't wanna hear it.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

A/N: And there you have it.

Though…answer me this…is Sara a Mary Sue? I hadn't been aware of this fact, but one reviewer seems to think so. It was in a review for chapter 3. And I quote…

"…sorrty i love the interection betwen harry and draco but i do not like mary sue just kill her or send her to live with the weasley,this is not moore a harry-draco fic is a mary sue go to hogwards fic and hate that …"

Now, ignoring the mass amount of grammar and spelling issues in that…

1. The Weasleys don't need any more children, and this is in no way their problem to deal with.

2. A Mary Sue goes to Hogwarts fic? Um…the girl's 5. Five! I have no intention of writing her going to Hogwarts, or focusing solely on her life in any way whatsoever. She's barely even a main character. (Seriously, I would've actually spent time making up her personality and such if that were the case…)

So uh…yeah…just kinda bugged me because I felt like this person made a bunch of assumptions about a character that had just been introduced. Not to mention my writing, and myself by extension.

And end rant-ish thingy. Sorry I took so long to get this chapter out, and hopefully I can do better with the next one! Much love!


	8. Matters of the Mind

**A/N**: Chapter 8! Good god, I can't believe how long it's taking me to write this. My apologies to those of you who have stuck with me this long!

As always, a heartfelt thanks to my beta, Breathless Tao (same guy, new name o:). A lot of minor changes in this one, but they can make such a difference! =)

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**Chapter 8: Matters of the Mind**

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"So…have you discovered anything?" Draco asked the room, wanting to break the silence more than anything else. Not that he didn't want an answer, but it was fairly obvious that something, at least, had indeed been discovered.

Dumbledore was, not surprisingly, the first to speak. "You three are aware of the incident that took place in your fourth year, at the Triwizard Tournament, correct?" he asked of them, seemingly trying to ease his way into the topic he needed to discuss.

Wary glances were exchanged between the three. "Are you…referring to the graveyard?" Draco asked cautiously. When Harry had allowed Draco to see his memories, that particular one had been among a select few of the more vivid ones, considering how terrifying it had been to the poor fourth-year boy. The very idea, not to mention its implications, seemed to unsettle Granger and Weasley as much as it had him.

"I am," Dumbledore replied. "As you know, Harry's blood was used to revive Voldemort that day. Unfortunately, it seems that was not the last repercussion of this particular ritual."

Dumbledore paused, seeming to gather his thoughts, or perhaps he was trying to choose his words carefully. Hermione, quite anxious to hear the rest, couldn't stop herself from speaking. "What else happened…? Um, sir?" Snape sent her an exasperated glance not unlike what he used to give her in Potions class, and she flushed in embarrassment, looking down and waiting for the former headmaster to continue speaking.

"Are you familiar with the way blood magic works, and exactly why it is considered such a formidable form of magic?" he asked at length. Nobody said anything, knowing that the man had every intention of explaining it anyway. "Blood magic, if used correctly, can succeed where the _imperius_ cannot."

A small shudder ran down Draco's spine. Harry had, with his usual, idiotic determination, taught Draco to resist the imperius curse, but even that could not completely dispel the fears he still associated with the word. Harry had always been able to resist it, which made the ultimate result of this conversation shockingly clear to him, even as Dumbledore began to explain in more detail.

"It is a circumstance that Voldemort had not predicted at the time, but one that he found to work to his advantage nonetheless." Another pause, and Dumbledore's expression turned sad, regretful. "Voldemort was always obsessed with the prospect of immortality. It is what drove him to split his soul to create the horcruxes. It is also what drove his obsession with Harry. The prophecy said that one would die by the other's hand. Voldemort feared this end so badly that his priority became to kill Harry. Obviously he did not succeed. But it would seem that in his desire to come up with a plan, he unintentionally stumbled upon a way to avenge himself after death."

"Avenge…?" Ron whispered, looking vaguely surprised as he spoke, as if he hadn't meant to say that out loud.

The three of them nearly jumped when Snape spoke next. "Voldemort discovered an ancient, dark magic used long ago, when loyalty meant everything and people manipulated whatever they wanted at will. It was most often used on members of a family that expressed rebellious tendencies," he said smoothly. "It involved a process of combining blood, and then the one who cast the spell could begin to push their ideas and behavior upon the other. Essentially, it turned the person into a puppet, with enough of their own will left to not seem too suspicious."

Draco thought they'd been rid of the problem of Voldemort…but this was starting to look worse than when the man had been alive. "So he's turning Harry into a puppet?" Draco asked, raising a brow. "But he's dead. We all saw it…Harry killed him."

"And that is where we discovered Lestrange's part in this," McGonagall told them.

"And we're back to this again…" Ron mumbled, obviously speaking purposefully this time.

Snape raised a brow, sure he had no desire to know what Ron meant by that. "Yes, well, it seems he found a way to combine this magic with a fertility potion." And cue three disturbed teens.

A hint of a smile showed within Dumbledore's eyes at their expressions, and he picked up where Snape left off. "A long story short, he, along with Several Death Eaters and a great deal of planning and ingenuity, created a potion similar to that which brought him back to life. Essentially, they took a doll and gave it life."

A heavy silence fell over the room, and Hermione broke it with a sort of awed, horrified whisper. "A doll that could pass on that blood control?"

"Indeed," Dumbledore replied, with a small incline of his head.

Draco backed up a couple of steps and collapsed into the chair placed there for guests of the office. He resisted the urge to bury his face in his hands as well. He should've gone with his first instinct. He should've just taken the girl to someone else and wiped Harry's memory of her.

"But…how?" Ron asked. "That old ritual required the person affected to be directly involved, right?"

"Ah, but Harry's case was…not typical."

"When was it ever…" Draco mumbled, and Snape smirked in amusement.

"Because Harry's blood was used to bring Voldemort back, they already had access to it. So his blood _was_ used. In addition, his scar had always given him a close connection with Voldemort. Since they used that method similar to Voldemort's resurrection, Sara was created partly with Harry's blood, and since a person's magic is tied to their blood, Harry is completely receptive to hers. The scar would act almost as a conduit, practically absorbing the magic which Harry's body thinks should be a part of it. Unfortunately, the magic is tainted by Voldemort's brand of darkness, which gets accepted along with the rest of it."

"So…you're saying Harry's turning into the next _Voldemort_?" Ron said, voice ending on a squeak which he immediately tried to pretend hadn't happened.

"…Essentially," Dumbledore answered, looking weary and even upset at his own answer.

"How did you find all of this out?" Hermione wondered, looking between the three professors.

"Do not concern yourself with our methods, Miss Granger," McGonagall chided, diplomatic as ever.

"Who cares, anyway!" Draco cried, standing up. "My boyfriend's being turned into the next dark lord, and he doesn't even realize it. Less focus on the past, and more on fixing this, please." He turned to Snape with a nearly pleading look. "There-" His voice broke, and Draco stopped to clear his throat before trying again. "There…_is_ a way to fix it…right?"

When the Potions Master wasn't immediately forthcoming with an answer, Draco began to feel terribly dismayed. "_Right_?" he asked again.

"The only method known to counteract this curse," Replied Dumbledore slowly, seriously, "is to kill the one controlling it."

"Lestrange?" Hermione asked.

Dumbledore gave a slow shake of his head. "Sara," he answered. A stunned silence settled over the room, and Draco exchanged glances with Ron and Hermione. Getting rid of her was fine and all…but killing? He'd already killed once, and he wasn't fond of the prospect of doing it again.

"That's…the _only_ way?" Draco asked, swallowing against the unwanted images of his father's death that flashed through his mind.

"There was one other," Snape said, frowning slightly. "It was a potion which nullified the controlling effect by causing an interference of sorts between one's blood and magic."

"Isn't that dangerous?" Hermione asked, looking decidedly worried.

Snape nodded. "It is. The drinker falls into a coma for the span of a day while the potion seeks out the foreign magic and expels it. More than once, this potion has caused death, if either the will or the magic of the drinker is not strong enough."

"Wait," Ron cut in, looking confused. "Then why did you say there was only one method?"

"Because the main ingredient of this potion is believed to be extinct," Snape replied easily.

Draco had the sudden, completely irrational urge to punch the man. He didn't even _care_! He clenched his hands into fists, willing away the unwanted violent thoughts. They would get him nowhere right now. "_Believed _to be?" he said instead of acting on his impulse. After all, it was very unlike him to think such things. He was just so damn _worried_.

"The Culethia Flower. It has not been seen for nearly a century. Even if it has not become extinct, nobody knows where to find it."

Draco all but deflated. "That's it, then. To save Harry we have to kill a little girl." He caught the almost concerned gaze that Severus sent his way, but he did nothing to acknowledge it. Another silence spread throughout the people present, and Draco wondered if there was a record for most uncomfortable silences in one conversation. Because he was sure they broken it by now.

"You know Harry would never allow that, right?" Hermione spoke aloud to the room. It was nothing they didn't already know. "I know I wouldn't…" she said more quietly then, to herself more than to the others in the office.

Draco's brow furrowed, as he tried to think of something, anything, through the current blankness of his mind. It was as if all higher thought-processes had decided to simply run away, leaving him in the darkness of indecision. It annoyed him to no end. Then the words of some of his ancestors came back to him, and he spoke without being aware that he had intended to speak. "I think the amulet I gave him has been somewhat holding it at bay."

"Amulet?" Severus repeated, and Draco turned to his distant godfather with a nod.

"A family heirloom. I spoke to some of my ancestors' portraits about it, and all they really know is that it seems to monitor its wearer's magic, keeping it healthy, along with the person."

"Oh dear," Dumbledore spoke up for the first time in a while. "That could be troublesome."

Gods but Draco was tired of bad news. Couldn't some information, just once, be something _helpful_? He looked at Dumbledore expectantly.

"Two such opposite forces working on one source would cause immense strain. It's a wonder the boy hasn't collapsed simply from exhaustion…greater men have gone mad with such instability."

The faces around him were so grim, Draco thought he might as well be at a funeral. Then he desperately tried not to connect 'funeral' and 'Harry' in his mind. "The amulet pulls on my magic too," he said, not sure whether that bit of information was useful at the moment or not. A few more concerned glances were directed at him, and he ignored those too.

"Can't we just send her somewhere?" Ron asked, looking for all the world as if this solution should be obvious. "Somewhere far away, like America or something?"

Dumbledore smiled somewhat sympathetically. Or it could have been patronizing. Nothing was ever quite certain with that man. "Unfortunately it is not that easy. This thing is not only a curse, but a bond. And as you know, bonds are not hindered by distance."

"Then…what are we supposed to do?" Hermione asked, sounding quite afraid of the answer.

Snape was quick to reply. "Nothing," he said. "You will leave this to me."

"But professor!" Hermione exclaimed, then instantly silenced when Snape's hard stare did not waver. Everyone was instantly reminded that this man used to be a death eater.

"Draco," Snape continued, and Draco slowly turned his head towards the man. "Can you find him?"

"He's going to hate me…" Draco whispered instead of answering, gaze unfocused as he got lost in his own thoughts.

"Can you find him?" Snape repeated, voice nearly lowered to a growl.

Feeling as if he was condemning himself, Draco nodded.

"And you will hold him in place and wait for me?"

Draco looked towards Ron and Hermione, and upon seeing their worried expressions, immediately schooled his own into something more aloof, no matter that he didn't feel that way. It was an ingrained defense that didn't even register in his mind. He turned back to the potions professor and nodded again. "I'll just…give me a couple days, then." He stood up in a sort of daze. When had things gotten so serious? So bad? Leave it to Harry to attract trouble like this. He shook his head, trailing his fingers along the wall with one hand, while his other grabbed his broom from where he'd placed it by the door. He threw his leg over the broom as soon as he had cleared the stairs, flying through the hallways, hardly paying attention to his direction. It was summer, so the castle was nearly empty, and he knew these halls well after living there for seven years.

He darted out an open window when he came across it, and set about flying back to Malfoy Manor. He wasn't sure whether the flight back seemed shorter or longer. He was so distracted.

When he did finally arrve home again, one of the house elves greeted him and took his broom. He wasn't even sure which one it was. Without pause or conscious thought, he headed towards the library, musing that the room had been seeing a lot of use recently.

The potions section was one of the most frequented, Draco realized, as he observed the more worn quality of the books, and their less organized shelving. It looked as if they had been removed and replaced many times, often in a hurry. He finally found what he was looking for, though, and pulled a book from its place among a set in the shelves. It was an encyclopedia of potion ingredients – the most comprehensive set known.

Draco knew, going in, that this was probably one of the most pointless, and counterproductive things he'd ever done. But the curiosity gnawed at him as he flipped through the alphabetically organized pages, finally stopping when he found the entry on the Culethia flower.

_ The Culethia flower is a somewhat rare flower, valued for its intensive magical properties. It is especially sought after for its potency in potions that involve direct psychological effects. Its specialty is in restoration, and recovery._

_ This particular flower is a magical cousin of the rose, with thicker, but even softer petals, and thorns on its leaves as well as its stem. The plant on its own is best known for its calming properties. Just a look can ease a troubled mind. This is most likely the reason it is found so effective, and is most often the main ingredient in potions which alter the state of mind, whether for better or for worse._

_ The Culethia is used as a catalyst in dissolving bonds, and is therefore rather picky about where it grows. It likes plenty of water, and often prefers an untamed environment, making it very hard to cultivate in a garden or greenhouse. _

Well that's just great.

Sighing in annoyance – more at his own useless actions than the lack of help from the encyclopedia – Draco stood and left the library. He took his wand from his pocket, and twirled it over his fingers, staring intently at it as he walked. He was stalling. Squaring his shoulders to steel his nerves, Draco summoned his patronus, asking of it a simple request and sent it off to Harry.

The patronus returned a short time later, accompanied by Harry's stag. "It'll stay with you until you're ready," Harry's disembodied voice said, "then it will lead you here." The message cut off, then, leaving Draco somewhat dissatisfied with the response, and wondering if Harry even _wanted_ to see him at all. The boy's tone had sounded nothing but detached, and he didn't want to admit that it worried him. He then spent a while pacing, debating, knowing that he was going to go. _Had_ to go. And that was unpleasant in itself, the realization that it was duty which drove him to his boyfriend's side, not just a desire to be with him. Well, maybe he'd be forgiven. In a few years. Hopefully.

Draco turned to observe the stag, which observed him in turn, standing solemnly near the fireplace. He wasn't surprised it was holding form so long. In fact he realized he was getting quite used to the level of Harry's power. Though, he wondered why Harry didn't just tell him where he was. For the patronus to lead him back, he'd have to fly, rather than traveling by floo or apparating.

Tearing his gaze from the shining silver animal, Draco glanced at the nearest clock. It was late. Harry said the patronus would stay until he was ready…did that mean he didn't mind if he waited until morning? Draco was very aware that he was stalling again but…it had been a long day. He imagined tomorrow would be another one. Sleep was definitely the best option, especially considering the knowledge that his energy was sapped in part by the pendant around Harry's neck. Yep, definitely going to sleep now. The motions of getting ready for bed were automatic, and soon Draco found himself beneath the sheets, far colder than he remembered them being before Harry began living with him, sharing his mattress. It wasn't the most restful sleep he'd ever had.

- - -

When Draco awoke in the morning, he barely stopped himself from screaming – in a manly way of course – and flinging curses. Harry's silver stag was standing a foot from his bed, head held high and tilted and – a patronus wasn't supposed to _do_ that, dammit! He took a few moments to calm down again, rubbing his forehead and resisting the ludicrous urge to say 'I'm getting too old for this.' Because he most definitely wasn't.

He only stopped to dress and eat breakfast before grabbing up his broom for the second time, and telling the patronus to lead the way.

It wasn't all that surprising that he was led to Grimmauld Place. In fact, that would've been among the top of the list of places to look. He was still a bit miffed that Harry couldn't have just opened the floo for him or something. He decided he'd ask about it as he watched the stag give a bow of its head before disappearing. Draco furrowed his brow a bit at the odd behavior, but brushed it aside and walked into the old Black Manor.

As he walked through the house, Draco noticed Sara lying on a couch in the main living area, sleeping soundly. He stopped and simply stared at her for a long while, finding it hard to believe she was the very embodiment of such a dark curse. He wondered if he should even think of her as a human being. If he understood everything right, then she was more created rather than conceived. The whole thing was convoluted and confusing though and he honestly wasn't sure _what_ to think of it all.

So he didn't. With a heavy sigh, Draco turned and continued walking. He peered in several rooms, but the search proved fruitless, so he took it outside. He didn't have to walk far before he finally found Harry. The boy was in his animagus form, sprawled among the remains of a very neglected garden.

Smiling just a little, Draco walked over and sat beside the tiger's head, reaching over to pet him. One jade-green eye opened to look at him, but otherwise he got no reaction. His smile turned to a small frown and Draco studied his currently animal boyfriend. "I don't even get a hello?"

This time he at least got a little more response. Harry lifted his head, and placed it in Draco's lap before closing his eyes again. This was future-dark-lord Harry? He might as well be a de-clawed, toothless kitten, as dangerous as he looked right now. He quickly had to suppress a small laugh as he imagined kitten-Harry chasing butterflies with his kitten, Noah. Then he remembered what Dumbledore said about the strain on his magic, and he wondered if this was the result of that. Maybe that's why he was staying in his animagus form…in an attempt to get away from his magic.

Draco was suddenly hit with a dilemma he hadn't thought about before. Should he tell Harry about…about their plans? About what needed to be done? He honestly didn't know whether it would be better to give Harry a warning. But if he did, Harry was likely to do anything within his power to stop them…or even things outside his power if he decided it was necessary. The boy was heroic like that.

"What's up with you?"

Draco nearly jumped out of his skin at Harry's voice. When had he changed back, anyway? "What do you mean?" he replied, having no desire to tell Harry what, exactly, he'd been thinking about.

Harry's look was distinctly searching. Draco resisted the urge to fidget. "You're practically sparking with tension and anxiety."

"Sparking?" Draco was thrown for a moment by the strange use of the term.

Harry shrugged and waved a hand vaguely towards him. "Your magic," he clarified.

"Oh, right." Harry could see magic if he wanted to. Of course. That must have been one heck of a thorough spell if Harry couldn't detect anything strange in Sara's magic. He was a little curious as to how it worked, actually…

"Yeah, well, things have been a bit stressful lately, in case you haven't noticed." The deadpan stare he received in return told him that _obviously_, Harry noticed.

"Draco," Harry said seriously, switching gears and looking off into the neighborhood. "There's a reason I left the manor. You should go back."

Frowning at the easy dismissal, Draco took Harry's hand in both his own, stroking it with his thumbs as he responded. "I know you did. And you expect me to just let you go like that?"

Harry looked almost puzzled as he stared down at their hands. "I wasn't leaving forever."

"Just until you stopped feeling and acting strangely?" He tried to keep the bitterness from his tone, but it didn't quite work.

"Well…"

"But Harry, that _could_ be forever!" His grip tightened almost impossibly on Harry's hand. "When are you going to realize that you don't have to do everything _alone_?"

"Draco…" Harry said and his voice sounded tighter somehow, strained. "If you…_knew_ what I was thinking, the things, and feelings that run through my head, you wouldn't be asking me to be around you."

Draco looked up and his eyes locked with Harry's. And dear Merlin, was his gaze intense. It was…almost frightening. He took a deep breath through his nose and leaned forward, until his lips pressed gently against Harry's. The brunet didn't respond, but Draco persisted, detangling their hands and lifting his own to Harry's shoulders. He pushed forward until he was braced over Harry, who was now lying on his back. Draco pulled back just enough to break the kiss, and brushed his lips over Harry's in a slight caress. He felt a shuddering breath against his mouth.

"_Draco_," Harry said again, and the former Slytherin felt fingers curl around his bicep, gripping tightly. "Stop." He would've ignored the requested order if Harry hadn't sounded so torn about it.

"I can't even kiss you now?" Draco whispered, pulling away a bit more, wincing as he felt Harry's nails dig into his arm, even through the sleeve of his shirt.

"I told you to go back," Harry responded.

"Will you at least talk to me?" Draco pleaded, searching Harry's eyes. They seemed…darker than usual.

"No," Harry snapped, taking Draco by surprise. They had a sort of frowning contest before Harry used his grip on Draco's arm to shove him to the side. But instead of running off like Draco had expected, he simply pulled his knees up and rested his chin on them.

"The medallion burns," Harry said suddenly after a long moment of silence. His voice sounded distant…haunted even. "Hotter and hotter as time goes on. But…I don't want to take it off. Know anything about that?"

Draco lifted his shoulders in a small shrug, watching Harry sympathetically. "I told you that most of the medallion's powers have been lost with time. Maybe it's just trying to protect you."

Green eyes narrowed and Draco wondered what he'd said. "What are you not telling me?" the brunet asked suspiciously.

"…What do you mean?" Draco responded, trying not to be nervous.

But instead of saying anything, Harry shook his head as if trying to throw the thoughts from his mind. Bemused once again by Harry's demeanor, Draco looked off to the side, gathering his thoughts to speak, but stopped in the middle of taking in a breath. "No way…" he whispered, "it couldn't be."

Harry lifted his head and twisted his upper body, trying to follow Draco's line of sight. "What couldn't be?" he asked, sounding very much like his old self in his innocent confusion.

Draco didn't respond – in fact seemed not to have heard him at all – as he stood and walked a few feet away, kneeling in a random patch of the ground. "Salazar, I don't believe it." The blond stood in a flurry of robes, and turned to Harry with a big grin. "Harry, it's the Culethia flower! Right here! It's not extinct!"

Harry's brow furrowed, and he darted a glance at the flower before looking at Draco again. Great; he was turning evil or something, and Draco had just plain gone mad. "…Good for it?" he said, trying to pretend like they were having a completely normal conversation. It wasn't really working. Not that it really mattered what he said at the moment, because Draco was gone with the telltale pop of apparition.

Well, he had wanted Draco to leave, right? Completely denying to himself that he was pouting, Harry walked back inside the house and collapsed into an armchair near Sara, propping his feet onto the table and staring into the dark fireplace, doing his best to ignore the thoughts urging him to go after Draco and make him pay for leaving him like that without an explanation. It was a stupid thing to be angry over anyway. At least, he was pretty sure it was. He didn't quite remember anymore.

- - -

Draco apparated to the outside of Hogwarts, flower clutched loosely in his hand. Avoiding the thorns was a rather difficult task, so he really didn't even try, and ignored the minor scratches in favor of doing something productive. Like going back to McGonagall's office and asking where Snape went. She informed him that to her knowledge, the man had gone down to his quarters in the dungeons for the meantime.

So Draco turned and made his way down to Slytherin territory, knocking rapidly on the potions professor's door when he reached it. The head of Slytherin answered, looking understandably irritated until he noticed just who had been trying to bust through his door. "Draco?" he said, sounding quite surprised.

Without preamble, Draco held up the flower, watching as Snape's eyebrows rose in surprise. "Where…?"

"I found it at the old Black manor," Draco answered the unfinished question. Snape seemed to suddenly realize that Draco was still standing in the hallway, and wordlessly stepped back, holding the door open wider to let him in. A thought occurred to Draco then, and he asked somewhat timidly, "Is it enough?"

"Yes," Snape answered somewhat distractedly, much to Draco's relief. "It's a potent ingredient. Three petals, one leaf and four thorns," he mumbled to himself, and already started making his way to the back of his rooms, which he had turned into his own miniature potions lab. Draco followed, flower still in hand. He watched, out of the way, as Snape started darting back and forth this way and that, pulling potions from stores and cabinets that Draco didn't even realize were there until they were opened.

Snape earned his title of Potions Master all over again as he began setting up a work station in record time, chopping this ingredient, shredding that one, and pulling out an old book when he came across a step he apparently wasn't sure about. When he finally paused and turned to see Draco's impressed, and somewhat lost look, he beckoned the boy to him. "The flower can't be given time to wilt," he explained, instructing Draco to cut up a slimy object that Draco didn't even _want_ to know the identity of. He mentally kicked himself though when he realized he could've completely ruined the flower's potential by plucking it from the ground. Potions was his best subject…he should've _known_ that. He'd just been so excited to see it – there, real and alive – that he'd simply taken it and run. And abruptly left Harry all alone after insisting he couldn't be pushed away so easily. He resisted the urge to bang his forehead on the table. He'd be cleaning gunk out of his hair later if he actually did that. '_He'll forgive me later…'_ Draco found himself thinking once again. And once again he found himself hoping it was true.

After a small time of working in silence, Draco found himself wondering at the efficiency Snape was working at. "You seem to know this potion pretty well," he said when he thought it wouldn't be too disrupting. He hadn't meant for it to sound accusing…it just seemed odd that the professor would actually know how to make a potion that couldn't be made due to an extinct ingredient.

Snape set down the stirrer he had just removed from the cauldron, and gave Draco a slightly unreadable stare. "Due to the darker origins of this potion, and my own affinity towards such things earlier in life, I once wrote an in-depth report on this particular potion and its effects. Luckily for us, it seems I have not forgotten the research I put into the topic."

Well. That was convenient. But Draco decided to just take the good things as they come, because right now, they seemed to be in short supply. Nothing more was said on the subject, and they worked in silence aside from the odd instructions until it reached a point where the potion needed to set.

"Unfortunately," Snape started as he moved the cauldron on a stone ledge set off to the side for just such purposes, "It requires nine days to set properly."

"Wonderful," Draco replied, voice low with sarcasm as he followed his former professor to a wash basin. "What do we do until then?"

"We wait," Snape answered simply, and Draco imagine he would've shrugged if it had been more like the man to do so.

"But Harry…" Draco stopped and frowned, not quite sure where he was going with that sentence. Harry what? Could lose it completely in that time? The frown deepened and Draco looked over to the man he had long respected. "What about him?"

Snape gave the boy a long look before he answered. "I believe you would know better than I."

Draco dropped his gaze to the floor, resisting the urge to mutter the cliché line, 'I was afraid you were going to say that.' Instead he nodded. "Let me know when the potion is ready." He received an answering nod – he took a moment to be amused by their lack of expressive gestures – and turned to leave again. Now that the adrenaline of the moment had passed, he realized he was quite tired.

It seemed to take ages to reach the edge of the school's wards, and when he did, Draco hesitated in a moment of indecision. To the manor, or to Harry? Or maybe to Harry's friends? No, he could do without that mess of worry and sentimentality. Oh who was he kidding, he knew he was going to go back to Harry anyway. Perhaps he'd developed a bit of masochism somewhere along the way. The thought actually made him pause, and he furrowed his brow at the inevitable images such thoughts brought to mind. He shook his head to dispel them. He really needed to get more sleep…all this stress was beginning to catch up to him. Perhaps he could convince Harry of a simple afternoon nap? A moment to pretend like things were as they had been before Sara's appearance.

When he did step back into the Black Manor, Draco found himself calculating the best way to approach Harry, without entirely realizing he was doing it. Unlike earlier, Harry felt…less approachable now. The dark-haired boy was sat at the table in the kitchen, chin resting behind interlocked fingers, and a distant stare in his eyes that had Draco wondering what he could possibly be thinking about. A cup of tea – long turned cold – sat beside his elbow. Draco took slow, deliberate steps into the kitchen, head tilted to the side as if Harry were a mystery that simply needed a new angle to figure out. He pulled out a seat diagonally across from Harry, and waited to be acknowledged. He thought it might be better to let Harry set the pace of their encounters, and give himself time to observe and deal with whatever mood Harry may be in with a bit of warning.

"I thought you left," Harry said after a while, though his expression or position never changed. Even his eyes stayed glued to some nondescript spot on the wall.

"I did," Draco answered. An agreement, without inflection. "I came back."

"You shouldn't have."

"So I've been told."

Green eyes shifted towards him then, and Draco met the stare almost defiantly. He would _not_ be afraid of Harry. Not _his_ Harry… "You know what I hate, Draco?"

Not quite sure what track Harry's train of thought had just jumped onto, Draco decided to humor him. "No, what?"

"Not being in control."

Draco's eyebrows disappeared beneath his bangs. Where exactly was Harry going with this…? With a lack of any sort of proper response, he waited for Harry to continue.

"I don't want to rule everything…I just want to be able to decide what goes on in my own life, you know? That's fair, right?"

"Of course it is," Draco agreed. So that's what this was about. "And you feel this way now?" He already knew part of the answer, but this was his opportunity to see exactly where Harry stood at the moment. He wanted to know what his boyfriend was going through, from his point of view.

"How could I not?" Harry replied, just short of emphatic. "This isn't _me_, Draco. I mean, it is…but it's not. You know?"

Draco raised an eyebrow. No he didn't…not really. But he had a general idea. And now that their plans didn't involve killing a young girl Harry had become attached to, he decided to let him in on their course of action. "We're working on it, Harry."

Harry looked up in surprise, then his brows slowly drew together, as if he was trying to piece together a puzzle in his mind. "Working on…what?" he asked slowly.

"The cure to your problem," Draco replied.

"You know it?" He was referring to both problem and cure.

Draco nodded, missing the barest hint of warning in Harry's tone. "I don't know how, but Dumbledore, McGonagall and Severus figured it out."

There was a pause before Harry spoke. "_They_…figured out what was wrong with _me_."

Now Draco could hear something amiss and he went back through their conversation, trying to pinpoint what he had said to make Harry angry. "Without me," Harry continued, and Draco's eyes widened marginally.

"Yes?" he responded, turning it into a bit of a question as he watched Harry's frown grow.

And then Harry was on his feet, glaring and generally looking like an irate dragon – he half expected smoke to billow out from his flared nostrils. "You see!?" Harry cried, throwing his arms up and letting them fall back to his thighs with a slap. "This is what I'm talking about! All the things that involve me directly, are _always_ handled behind my back. Like I'm not even important enough to know what's going on with _myself_!" And then Harry was gone, disappeared somewhere in the house, somewhere on the second floor, Draco guessed, by the slightly distant sound of the slamming door.

Draco groaned in annoyance, folded his arms on the table and rested his chin on them. Nine days…. He closed his eyes, but opened them again when he heard shuffling in the doorway. He looked up to see Sara standing there, looking very hesitant and a little scared. Draco sighed and motioned for her to come into the room.

Sara made her way over to the table, looking cowed as if it had been _her_ that Harry had just been yelling at. She took a seat beside Draco, and he was surprised to see Noah in her arms, and wondered how the kitten had gotten from his manor to here as it jumped onto the table and rubbed its head against his elbow. He smiled slightly and pet the purring cat before turning to Sara expectantly.

"Why is Harry so mad?" she asked, and Draco fought the irrational feeling that he was being blamed.

"I don't know," he answered. He didn't feel like going into detail with her about what was happening. She may be a little mature for her age, but he still didn't want to go through all those explanations.

"Will he get better?"

Draco winced. See, this was why he hated kids. That blunt innocence is something he was not adept at dealing with. "Sure he will," he said at length. Then a thought struck him, and he suddenly wondered what would happen to her. Would she notice anything at all? Just more questions to be left unanswered until the potion finished brewing.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

So at first I had thought I could finish it in this chapter…then I realized it would be better to make another chapter out of it. So more than likely it will end in the next one. We'll see…my muse takes sadistic glee in ignoring all boundaries I throw at her, be they length constraints, or plot outlines.

Physics! E (=energy = my motivation to write) = M(mass of reviews that I receive) X c(squared) (which is…uh…yeah I'll just leave that at the speed of light)

Gimme a break it's 1:30 in the morning…and I have an astronomy test later which is probably why this idea even entered my head. -.- Point being! Reviews are the lifeblood which a writer drinks with their cereal in the morning. O.o Ta~! ^^


	9. Quid Pro Quo

So, um... *coughs*

*points to story*

*wanders off*

* * *

**Chapter 9: Quid Pro Quo**

Day two of the nine was spent entirely in boredom for Draco. He wasn't sure if Harry even left whatever room he had disappeared into. So of course, Draco was left to take care of Sara. She was obviously displeased with his lack of attention, but she knew better than to beg it from him. She was young, not stupid.

Day three had Draco making a sandwich for Harry and then going on a hunt to find him. It didn't take him long to figure out that Harry was in the only locked and magically barred door on the second floor. The room practically shimmered with magic, and Draco frowned as he knocked, feeling a sharp twinge in his knuckles as they brushed up against the nearly tangible energy. Something wasn't right. He'd been with Harry long enough by now to know what Harry's magic felt like. This wasn't the same. It felt…warped, somehow, and Draco wasn't even sure how he came to that conclusion. It just seemed to fit. "Harry?" he tried when there was no reply to his knocking.

There was only stillness behind the door, and so he set himself to the task of trying to get inside the room. He worked his way up from first year unlocking spells to seventh, and even then had to call on a couple more that weren't taught in Hogwarts. How did Harry know those?

Finally he felt the last of the barriers give way, and hesitated only a second before turning the knob and opening the door so that he could see inside.

What he found was an empty room.

The bed was unmade, the sheets so messed up that it looked like someone had picked a fight with them rather than sleep under them. The window was open, occasionally creaking as the breeze moved the swinging glass.

Draco didn't know what to think. He probably should've been panicking, but his emotions had been running so high for so long that he couldn't find the energy in himself to do so. He was worried, of course, and found himself wondering, more level-headedly than he would've thought himself capable at the moment, just what course of action he should take next. He needed to find Harry. Could he do that on his own? Should he contact Snape? Oh, that would go over so well… "Oh Harry…" Draco mumbled, staring out the window and wondering where his boyfriend could've possibly gone. Or why he left. Then his eye caught something shining just outside his line of sight, and he turned to look.

"No…tell me you didn't…" he said to the not-there Harry as he walked over to the object, only to confirm his suspicions. The medallion he'd given him for Christmas was lying on top of the dresser, shining innocently and taunting Draco with its suddenly useless state. When he picked it up, he could feel the infection of dark magic and he closed his eyes, trying to will it away. _He said he wouldn't take it off…that he didn't want to._ So what did it mean? Draco wasn't sure he wanted to know. But he had to. He sighed heavily.

The big question, though, is what on earth was he supposed to do about it? He had a feeling the patronus method wouldn't work this time. Draco suddenly found himself wishing he could yell at Harry to _stop disappearing already_! Really, it was starting to become a familiar pattern now. He sighed when he realized he should probably tell Snape.

* * *

"He did what?"

Draco cringed; Snape was understandably displeased. "He ran off. Escaped through the window. He's gone and I don't know where he went."

Snape sighed explosively and crossed his arms, leveling a glare on the far wall. "Well we'll have to find him," the man stated obviously. Draco wisely said nothing.

And they did try to find him. For two days. Point-me spells were ineffective, any guesses his friends had on his whereabouts turned into dead-ends, and Dumbledore predicted that with the level of Harry's power, if he didn't want to be found…he wouldn't be. And so it seemed.

On the third day of this – the fifth day of the nine until the potion was ready – they found him. But not in a way any of them had expected. Hermione had gathered them all together, and once they were all situated in McGonagall's office, she pulled out a muggle newspaper and offered it to Snape first. The group watched with anticipation as Snape's eyes slowly widened. Then he brought up two fingers to pinch the bridge of his nose. "Idiotic boy…" he muttered.

Draco all but snatched the paper from Snape's hand, and quickly scanned its contents himself. There on the front page was a still image of Harry, brandishing his wand at a mean-looking group of muggles and casting a spell that Draco couldn't identify. The headline read, _Magician Plays at Resident Super Hero._ "Magician?" Draco asked, looking at Hermione.

"Muggles that pretend to do magic with tricks and illusion," she answered absently, obviously answering out of reflex. Draco nearly rolled his eyes as habitually as she had answered him.

Ron leaned over to look as well, and raised his eyebrows, snorting slight amusement at the title. "So, even when he's evil, he's good? That's our Harry," he said with a grin.

Draco frowned, resisting the urge to roll his eyes again. "This is hardly a good thing, Weasley."

"Come on, it could be worse!" he countered. "At least he's not out killing a bunch of random people, or gathering hordes of evil minions in order to overthrow the ministry and become supreme dark ruler of the world or something."

Draco looked a little bemused, as did a few others in the room. "Have you thought about this?"

Ron shrugged, moving away from the paper to stand near Hermione again. "That's what Voldemort did, more or less." Well, he had a point.

"May I?" McGonagall asked, and Draco handed over the paper, surprised she hadn't heard of this. Somewhere in his mind, he wondered if Dumbledore would've known, if he'd still been alive. Being a portrait didn't count. Not that it mattered, now, and Draco focused his attention as McGonagall spoke again. "We must retrieve him before he causes any more damage." She scanned through the article, and frowned slightly when she reached the end. "He's near his childhood home."

"Revenge?" Snape offered after a beat, and McGonagall pursed her lips, obviously not wanting to answer.

"I'll go get him," Draco offered, but Snape immediately shot the idea down.

"No," the man barked, surprising Draco. "He is obviously dangerous now. I will bring him back."

"But maybe I could-"

"Draco, at this moment, he is not the same boy you are used to. The fact that he left Grimmauld Place rather than stay in your presence proves that your influence is not enough."

Draco winced, his gaze dropping to the floor. Did he have to be so harsh? A hand fell upon his shoulder, and he looked up to see Granger smiling sadly at him. He frowned and pulled his shoulder away, though the movement was not offending as it would have been before last summer. He simply wasn't that comfortable with her touching – or even looking at – him like that.

"Draco, Granger, Weasley," Snape said and the three looked up expectantly. "You will not go looking for him, understand?"

"But we can help!" Hermione protested, her look of sympathy replaced with a familiar desire to be involved.

"You will stay at Grimmauld place and assure that Sara does not escape our grasp as well." It was not so much a suggestion as a threat. The three of them exchanged grim looks, but they all knew that there was no arguing with Snape at this moment. Draco wanted to point out the fact that they were all legally adult wizards (and a witch) and could in fact be helpful, but it seemed his mind had been made up. As he thought about it, he realized they had been leaving Sara alone an awful lot lately. But there was nothing for it, really; she was well-off with house elves, and things were a little serious for them to be playing babysitter to the cause of this mess.

* * *

Snape apparated to Surrey, hidden in a park, the wand in his hand completely still as it sat in a point-me spell. They had tried to use the spell before, but it kept changing directions on them, and Snape guessed that Potter had been apparating large distances to make himself harder to track.

But now he sat stationary, and Snape disillusioned himself as he walked out of the park in the direction his wand had shown him. What he found after a bit of walking was not altogether surprising for the situation, but it was still somewhat of a shock to see Harry Potter threatening muggles. While he was still unnoticed, Snape sent a stunning spell at Potter's back. It hit, but then Potter actually threw it off, and Snape took a half-step back as the former Gryffindor threw a spell backwards, luckily missing him by a few feet. Snape suddenly remembered that this was the boy he'd watched defeat Voldemort.

"Who's there?" Harry asked, frowning at the empty air behind him. The muggles that had previously been under wand-point looked on, wide-eyed and shaking. Snape found himself wondering what Potter had said or done to them.

Erring on the side of caution, Snape did not reveal himself, stepping slowly sideways, and calling on every bit of stealth he'd learned to keep silent. He watched Potter closely, and furrowed his brow when the boy closed his eyes. Snape tensed as he watched, waiting for Potter to do something. He didn't have to wait long. In a split second, Harry had spun and faced him directly, opening his eyes and shooting an unfamiliar spell at him.

With reflexes born through years of war, Snape jumped to the side, taking off the disillusionment spell since it was obviously of no use, and just took unnecessary energy to maintain.

"I'm not going back, you know," Harry said, watching Snape's movements with an intensity that the potions master didn't think the Gryffindor should posses.

"You would rather stay here?" Snape countered. He wasn't sure himself whether he was stalling, or actually trying to get information.

"Where I wish to be is none of your business, Snape," Harry said, nearly managing to snarl the words as much as speak them. It was this more than anything that made Snape realize he wasn't talking to Harry, Draco's lover and proud Gryffindor. This was someone else, a new version of Potter that was in no way improved. Which meant he had no idea what to expect from the boy.

"Then have you come for revenge?" Definitely stalling now.

Potter inclined his head in a way that could have been affirmation or denial. The expression didn't suit him.

Snape wasn't sure how to respond, and he didn't get a chance to figure it out, either. Before he could even open his mouth to speak, several pops resounded through the streets, and nearly ten more witches and wizards appeared. Snape recognized most of them.

Potter's attention snapped to the figure closest to him, which also happened to be the one Snape was least happy to see. "Lestrange..." Potter said, his voice an eclectic mix of apprehension, curiosity, bewilderment and anger. Then again, anger seemed to be a staple with him these days.

"Hello, Potter," she practically cooed at him, and Harry's upper lip curled a little at the tone. "What a pleasant surprise," she said, like this was actually a surprise. She wasn't fooling anyone.

"Go away," Harry said almost flippantly, sounding entirely unconcerned. It was a warning, Snape could hear it easily. Judging by the glint in Lestrange's eyes, she heard it as well.

"Oh I could hardly leave when this party is just beginning!"

A few laughs followed that statement, and Snape was lost to find the humor in it. More likely it was forced laughter just to stay in the good graces of the current leader of the death eaters.

Harry's eyes flicked towards Snape briefly, but he obviously decided Lestrange was more worth his attention at the moment. He might decide to be insulted about that later. "Fine, then get to your point. What are you doing here?"

"My, you've become bossy," the woman said, walking in a slow circle around Harry and his eyes tracked her movements like an animal stalking prey. His animagus form had never fit him better, Snape mused.

"Answer the question," Harry responded.

With a long suffering sigh, and a what-can-you-do look to the yet inactive death eaters, she replied, "Fine. I'm here to take you back."

"Back?" Harry echoed, his cool, don't-mess-with-me aura melting into cautious confusion.

"Back with us," she confirmed. "Your potential is much greater than what you will ever be allowed here. Don't you want to be useful again, Harry?"

When Harry's expression shifted from completely guarded, to somewhat considering, Snape decided it was time to step in. "Volemort's time is over, and it's time the death eaters realized that," he said, frowning at her and pointedly not catching Harry's eye. This moment had the potential to turn really ugly, really fast. He could only hope it wouldn't.

"And I think _you_ should realize," Lestrange said, turning her attention to him fully for the first time, "that it just might not be. Not if dear Harry here wishes to be at peace with himself again."

"What?" Harry cut in, looking at Lestrange almost hopefully, yet a little reproachfully. "What do you know about what I'm feeling?"

Snape suppressed the urge to groan in annoyed exasperation. It seems Draco had not told him all they had discovered. He wondered if it would have even made a difference.

"I know that you are probably confused. But this – a metamorphosis – is nothing to fear." Merlin, she sounded like one of those muggle religious extremists. Snape resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

"Not interested," Harry said almost immediately, narrowing his eyes at her. "I don't like you."

A small smirk worked its way onto Snape's face despite himself, until Harry turned to frown at him too. "I'm not going back with you, either." The amusement was gone as quick as it had come.

"You will, whether you want to or not," Lestrange said, sounding angry now, and with a small forward-flick motion of her hand, spells began flying from several directions, and Snape ducked behind a tree almost before he realized what he was doing.

Harry threw a shield around himself, causing a multitude of dangerous spells to bounce back, careening off their intended courses and very quickly making the surrounding area an impromptu battlefield. The muggles, previously quiet, forgotten, and quite frozen in fear and curiosity, now shot to their feet and high-tailed it away from the area, rightly fearing for their lives.

Spells both offensive and defensive in nature flew through Snape's mind as he stayed out of sight for the moment, but those thoughts took back seat to a hastily formed plan as he realized the possible advantage of the situation. Making a decision, he disappeared from the scene, only to return to the same spot with a potion vial in his hands. The crack of apparition went unheard in the chaos of the ten (or more)-on-one battle taking place.

The constant strain Harry had recently been under was quickly becoming apparent the longer he fought. Snape watched, tense, as the tiring Gryffindor missed his footing, stumbling before catching himself. The recovery almost wasn't quick enough, and the next shield he threw up couldn't stand against the spell thrown at it. The spell broke through with a loud bang, and both spell and shield fizzled out in a shower of sparks as Harry was thrown backward. Snape seized his chance. He leapt forward and grabbed Harry mid-fall, and knowing this would only work while he had the element of surprise, he apparated them both away, Lestrange's angered cries echoing in his ears even after they had left the scene. As soon as they reappeared, tumbling to the ground in an awkward and undignified heap, he unstopped the potion and practically shoved it into Harry's mouth. The boy had no choice but to swallow, lest he choke on the liquid instead, and Snape watched as he fought against it but ultimately succumbed to the effects of the very strong sedative.

When he was sure Harry was deeply unconscious, Snape let out a deep sigh, and rolled over onto his back, simply taking a moment to allow the adrenaline rush to fade. They were both now lying in the entrance hall of Grimmauld Place, and Snape marveled at how Lestrange and the death eaters' appearance had actually been the lucky break he needed. There was no way he'd have been able to wrestle Harry back on his own.

"Severus!"

Snape sat up to see Draco and Weasley, of all people, rushing towards him. He stood slowly, patting down his robes and greeting the two boys

"You did it, you got him back," Draco breathed after making sure Snape was all right. His brow furrowed as he made his way over to the prone boy on the floor. "Is he okay?" he asked, kneeling next to Harry's shoulders and smoothing a few errant bangs from his forehead. Snape pretended not to notice the motion.

"I gave him a sedative potion. It is the only way I can think of to restrain him that he could not escape from using magic. He can easily dispel physical bindings with a single thought if he wishes."

Draco nodded, understanding the reasoning but not necessarily comforted. The fact that they had to 'bind' him at all kind of sucked, to be honest. "Are you just going to keep him like this until the potion is ready?" he asked, already guessing at the answer as he tugged Harry up and settled him awkwardly against his side. Ron quickly moved to Harry's other side and they both held him up.

"That would probably be for the best. I do not know if he would attempt escape like that again," he tried not to think about how much it sounded like they were talking about a prisoner, "but I would simply rather not risk it. Perhaps keeping him unconscious will allow his body some of the resting time it needs, as well."

"Yeah…okay," he agreed. "We'll just take him to his room, then." Just as the two boys turned, Hermione's voice drifted toward them from around the corner.

"Ok, boys, Sara's aslee- Harry!" She rushed forward as she caught sight of the group in the corridor and stopped just short of them, as if she wanted to hug her unconscious friend, but realized it wouldn't do any good. "He's…okay, right?" she finally decided on asking.

"Yeah," Draco answered as Snape removed his cloak and hung it over by the door. "Severus gave him a potion to knock him out."

She glanced at Snape, then looked between Draco and Ron before nodding, almost absently. "I'll help you get him upstairs, then."

* * *

The last four days required for the potion to brew were spent in a sort of tense haze for all currently staying at Grimmauld Place, which included Snape until they got everything back to normal again.

Draco spent a good deal of time in Harry's room, sometimes sitting by the window and losing himself in thought, and sometimes sitting on the bed beside Harry, carding his fingers through the dark hair and usually getting lost in thought then, too. He knew it was pointless; it's not like Harry was in the hospital and he was waiting for him to wake up. But it's not like he really had anything better to do, either. Ron and Hermione were in and out, checking to make sure Harry was still out, and sometimes staying longer to talk to Draco. Well if nothing else, the three of them were getting a little bit of bonding time, however stilted it may be, due to circumstances.

Snape generally stayed out of the way, more often preferring the company of the books in the library. He'd moved the potion into the manor, and all they could do was wait. Draco hated waiting. He was pretty sure Ron was getting impatient, too.

* * *

"The potion is ready."

Draco jumped up from a somewhat deep sleep at the words, his brain taking a moment longer to click into place and process why that statement had required such an immediate waking. When he did, his eyes widened and he hopped out of bed – he'd been given one of the many guest bedrooms to stay in – and donned a robe before following Snape out to wake the other two. It was somewhat late at night, but Draco would prefer to be woken up and have this done with, than wait until morning. Again, patience was not his forte. Not when it came to people he cared about.

Once everyone had been made aware of the potion's status, they made their way to Harry's room, Snape making a short detour to get the potion. It was a little frothy and green, and the detached thought crossed Draco's mind that it was the exact sort of potion Harry hated drinking.

"So he just...has to drink it, right?" Ron asked, sounding nervous as they all gathered around the bed while Snape pulled out the vial with the appropriate dose of potion. "What will it do to him?"

"In theory, it will break apart the dark magic that has connected with his own. Unfortunately, despite my own research on the subject, I cannot say exactly what will happen, because the process of purging dark magic is different for everyone, and depends on the imbiber's strength, both body and mind. I suppose now we will see how strong his will truly is."

A stillness befell the room as Snape tipped the vial to Harry's mouth and assured that the correct amount of potion made it past his throat. Everyone held their breath. Then everyone released those breaths as enough time passed that they were forced to start breathing again.

"…Is it working?" Ron ventured hesitantly, leaning forward as if getting a closer look at Harry's prone form would tell him whether or not the potion was doing its job.

As if those were the magic words, Harry's body convulsed once on the bed, his spine arching awkwardly before he fell back to the mattress with a soft thump. Snape cast a spell Draco had seen mediwizards and witches use before to run diagnostics on a patient.

"Is everything all right?" Hermione asked, looking worriedly at Snape's face.

"Nothing truly abnormal about his normal bodily functions. Since we have been keeping

him unconscious to begin with, and this potion puts the drinker in a short coma, I imagine that was the start of the potion taking effect. "All we can do is wait it out."

* * *

Harry came to with the sensation of nothing beneath his feet, and for one half-asleep, panic-stricken moment, he flailed and kicked at the empty air until he opened his eyes with a full-body jerk, breathing heavily for a moment before his eyes focused. Unfortunately, this didn't really help him any, because all he was staring at was darkness with a few spots of darker darkness thrown in for some variety.

He furrowed his brow, darting his gaze all around as he tried to find something recognizable. After the initial moment of complete disorientation, an almost foreign feeling of calmness settled over him, and he spent a moment just…floating, allowing the feeling to take him because at this point he couldn't remember the last time he'd felt completely calm.

Seconds and hours later, he was startled out of his moment of peace by a sudden blinding light, and he threw his arm up to shield his eyes. He had a quick, detached thought where he almost expected someone to tell him to walk away from the light. When he could finally look without being blinded, he removed his arm and gaped. The only distinguishable item in the darkness was now the medallion he'd been wearing for months. Except it was huge, shining brightly, and oddly dented. There was also sparking red and black energy darting around it that looked rather dangerous. Naturally, he had to get a closer look.

As he approached, the whispers started. Whispers of things people had said to him, and some things people hadn't. Green eyes narrowed dangerously as he recognized one voice above all others. It was one he would never forget.

"_Voldemort_," he hissed into the relative darkness, the word passing his lips in parseltongue without him realizing the slip.

The voices cut off as if someone had hit a mute button in his own head – he had to be in his own head, because what other place did he know that was this messed up? – and the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end.

With the silence pressing in around him, and nothing else to focus on, he started a closer study of the medallion, and fully realized all the damage it seemed to have taken. With a start, he recognized the colors of his own magic aura pulsing faintly around it, almost completely overshadowed by the red and black. That explained the burning, at least…the medallion had been trying to protect him the whole time. A rueful smile crossed his lips. Draco had been doing everything to protect and help him, while Harry had pushed him away and been increasingly hostile. And wasn't that a switch from how they both used to be?

Before he could contemplate that any further, a whipcord of the red magic lashed out and struck him across the shoulder. He yelped and jumped back, his hand immediately clutching the stinging wound. He barely dodged the second one, and the third cut across the back of his thigh as he turned to run in the opposite direction. When his feet had actually found the ground, he wasn't certain, but it was a small realization beneath the screaming instincts to _run_.

But where do you run inside your own head?

Nowhere, apparently, Harry discovered as he found himself running up to the medallion again, even though he was certain he'd never turned around or changed direction at all.

Harry skidded to a stop, automatically trying to throw up a shield in defense, and immediately trying to quell the panic when it didn't work. The dark, sinister-looking magic seemed to be growing in size, and an ominous creak filled the space around him as it seemed to bend the already damaged medallion nearly in half.

A nearly overwhelming sense of dread and helplessness washed over him, and Harry swallowed against the feeling of impending doom. This was it; the culmination of everything that had been slowly eating away at him and suddenly it seemed to make so much sense that he was about ready to give in simply because the logic of this twisted timeline ended here so seamlessly.

He thought of Draco, and of Ron and Hermione, and hissed at the sting in his shoulder and leg as he snapped out of whatever daze he'd been drawn into. He couldn't just give up, not like that!

"Harry!"

Harry's head snapped to the side as he heard the voice of – surprisingly – Sara somewhere in the darkness. Her small form appeared off to his right, and she stumbled a bit as she found her footing before running over, barreling into him and wrapping her arms around his stomach. "Sara?" What the hell was going on here?

"Don't die Harry. Everybody's worried."

He blinked down at her, slightly thrown by the fact that she felt as much detached from this…dream as a part of it. "Die?" he repeated, frowning. Was he dying?

She nodded and stepped back, smoothing out the plain dress she was wearing and studying the floor with intent. The magic crackled behind them and Harry doubled over, dropping to one knee and clutching his stomach, even though the sudden pain that flooded his body didn't seem to have an actual focus point.

When he looked up again, one eye clenched shut against the pain as he fought to ignore it, Sara was biting her lip, looking between him and the damaged medallion, to which he was beginning to fully realize his direct connection. "I can stop it."

"What?" Harry asked, eyes wide. He wasn't even sure he'd heard her right.

Her lips pursed slightly, and suddenly she seemed so much _older_. "It's all my fault, I know it is. They all said it. I'm not s'posed to be…"

"…be what?" Harry asked, finally straightening.

She shook her head, and started backing up. "Just be. The nice old man said it."

She was making less and less sense and Harry wished he could just figure out what she was talking about already. "What nice old man?"

Sara hesitated and looked off to the side before meeting his eyes again. "I like you Harry. I can save you. I'm gonna save you, 'kay? He said you saved everyone, so now I can save you, even though I wasn't made to do that."

"Sara, what are you talking about?" Harry finally asked, possibly a little more harshly than he'd intended. But she wouldn't get to the damn point!

"Thank you for taking care of me, Harry, even though I was supposed to hurt you." She took another couple of steps back, and Harry's eyes widened as he realized she was heading towards the crackling mass of energy that was the only visible thing besides the two of them.

"Sara, get away from there…you'll get hurt."

She shook her head and continued to back up, even as the red and black energy began flowing towards her, drawn in like she was a magnet for it. "You can wake up for them. Make Draco happy again." She said it with a smile, and it _hurt_, the way she looked at him. No child should ever wear such an expression of resigned determination. That was _his_ thing, dammit. "I'll take it all back, 'cause mamma was a bad woman…"

"Sara! You don't have to–" He didn't even get to finish before she jumped back, grimacing as she disappeared without so much as a sound into the swirling mass of dark magic.

"Make them happy again, Harry!" her voice echoed around him, and he looked around frantically for a moment in vain, before closing his eyes in bewildered sorrow. The pain he'd been feeling as a constant burn dissipated, and he stood up defiantly. Sara had just…she sacrificed herself, he knew, with a conviction that settled in his mind and simply left no room for doubt. All the things she had said, confusing as they were, and not to mention what had just taken place, left him sure that she had been an integral part of everything that had been happening to him lately, and he was going to be questioning Draco about that later.

To be able to do that, though, he had to actually get to him first. The mass of magic crackled loudly in front of him. Whatever Sara had done, or perhaps was doing, had upset the hold the dark magic had over what he recognized as his own.

"Thank you, Sara," he whispered as he raised his hand, moving purely by intuition, hoping it was what needed to be done. When he concentrated, he could push against the weakened dark magic, and he did so as he walked towards the bent and nearly broken medallion until he could rest his hands against it. He hissed at the overwhelming sensation of connecting to pure, raw magic, closing his eyes as he kept contact, his fingers twitching a little at the sheer intensity. He realized with a jolt that this was his magical core, not just a dream-image or illusion, and was slightly awed despite himself. He imagined this was something that not many magical beings were able to do.

An errant bolt of the dying dark magic struck out at him, and he grit his teeth, returning his concentration to the task at hand. He felt Sara's energy pulling it back in, while a different, foreign energy seemed to be working on weakening the dark bit of magic, while strengthening his own.

He gave a particularly strong push of energy, and nearly jumped as he heard the creaking of metal again, and when he looked up, he realized the medallion was straightening out, and the dents that had been placed in it were disappearing. He gaped for only a moment, feeling the rush of cool comfort spread through his body like a wave. The feeling was incredible; he hadn't realized just how oppressive the dark magic had been both mentally and physically, since it had overtaken him so gradually.

With one final push against the dark magic, it disappeared with an impressive pop, and the medallion straightened out completely, shining even brighter than when he first appeared in this dark place, and he had to shield his eyes again, even as he let out a triumphant laugh at the lightness in his chest.

Harry woke with a gasp, nearly snapping into a sitting position and clutching his chest lightly over his heart.

"Harry!" came a chorus of voices, sounding a mix of excited, relieved, hesitant and he was sure there were other emotions in there he wasn't picking up on.

He turned his head and saw his two best friends, his boyfriend, and Snape of all people by his bedside, all with expectant looks on their faces. He gave them a grin, which changed quickly into a sheepish smile as he realized the reason they weren't smothering him with hugs by now. "Hey guys," he said. After a beat he added, "So...I've been a right git lately…"

Hermione was the first to act, and she laughed, jumping up on the bed and tackling him back down. "Oh Harry, it's so wonderful to have you back! We weren't even sure if the potion would work!"

Harry hugged her back, and when he looked over at the others, he couldn't help but laugh at the pout Draco was giving him. He smiled, loving and sincere, and watched as Draco's expression softened into something similar. Ron walked up to him and he held out his hand, grinning as Ron immediately clasped it within his own. "You really had us worried there, mate," he informed him, and Harry wasn't entirely sure how to respond. He'd had _himself_ worried.

After a few minutes of the Gryffindor love fest, Hermione and Ron backed off and Harry sat up again, scrubbing a hand over his face and through his hair. He was surprisingly tired for having just woken up.

"Potter."

Harry looked up at Snape, slightly thrown by the teacher voice, and it was almost instinctive when he replied with, "Sir?"

Snape's lips twitched before he spoke again. "I'm sorry for being the bearer of bad news, but Sara–"

"I know," Harry cut in before he could finish the sentence. He wasn't sure what it had looked like from this end – whether Sara's physical form had been pulled into the mess – and he wasn't sure he wanted to know. Maybe after his mind and body both had had a chance to settle down and rest. "She helped me," he said by way of explanation. He could tell them all about it later, when he found out everything else from them.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Hermione lean over to whisper to Ron, and when he looked over, Ron looked slightly affronted, but Hermione just gave him a look and he rolled his eyes. Hermione smiled and turned to Harry. "Harry, we're going to go into the kitchen to make breakfast. Come join us when you're ready," she said with a smile, and Harry nodded as she took Ron's hand and led them both out of the room.

"Tell me if you feel anything unusual, Potter. I want to make sure there are no lasting effects," Snape told him and at Harry's consenting nod and 'yes sir', he took his leave as well.

After a few seconds of watching the doorway, Harry swallowed and looked up at Draco, who was looking at him as if he might possibly revert to what he had been lately at any second. With a heavy sigh, Harry lowered his gaze. "Draco…I'm so sorrmmph" He wasn't able to finish the apology before it was completely swallowed by Draco. Harry let out a whimper he might be embarrassed about later, and reached his arms around Draco's waist, pulling him in as close as he could, opening his mouth as Draco's tongue pushed at his lips.

"Merlin, Harry," Draco murmured against his mouth after a while, barely pulling back at all, "I was so afraid I was going to lose you." He pressed forward to kiss him again, softer this time; sweeter, and with something far more profoundly desperate in his movements.

Harry brought his hands up to Draco's face, pulling back just enough to see his eyes, but close enough to press their foreheads together. "Draco," he said with a crooked smile, "I was afraid I was going to lose my_self_."

Draco laughed in response, even though it really wasn't that funny, but he was so _relieved_, and pulled Harry into a tight hug.

Harry closed his eyes and sighed, resting his head over Draco's heart, wrapping his arms around his waist again and gripping the back of the blonde's robes, using him as a sort of anchor as he readjusted to just being himself again.

"I'm sorry about Sara," Draco said after a while, quietly, afraid this may be the wrong time to bring it up.

Harry shook his head and sighed. "No you're not. But thank you," he said with a small smile. "I have a feeling there's a lot more to her story than I'm aware of."

"We'll tell you all about it later, Harry," Draco said, bringing one of his hands up and running it through Harry's unruly hair.

"Draco…" Harry mumbled, face half buried in Draco's shirt. "If you don't stop that I'm going to fall back asleep and then Hermione will yell at you for making me miss a meal."

Draco chuckled, squeezing Harry once and laying a kiss atop his head before pulling back enough to allow Harry to stand, offering his hands to help the boy up. "Like she needs an excuse to yell at me."

Harry raised a brow at him and Draco just smiled. Harry couldn't help the grin he sent in return; it was great to see Draco smiling at him like that again. He also couldn't help it when he leaned in for another kiss, and this one lasted until they were interrupted.

"Harry, Malfoy, Hermione says to – oh _c'mon_!" Ron, of course, was the one to walk in on them, and he ended on an exasperated – and from the sounds of it, slightly disturbed – note.

Harry pulled back and laughed at Ron's exclamation, and he grabbed Draco's hand as he started towards the door. "Let me guess, food is ready?"

"Yeah," he said a little sullenly before seeming to get over it. "Doing all right then, Harry?" he asked.

Harry smiled and nodded. "So far so good, yeah."

When they all sat down, Harry could feel the slight tension in the air, but everyone present resolutely ignored it, and this more than anything made him a little unsure of how he should be acting. Should he just forget the past weeks and pretend everything's normal, or should he get down on his knees and apologize some more? Well, maybe the kneeling wasn't necessary, but he did feel the need to apologize. Repeatedly.

"I'm really sorry, guys, for all the stuff I've done and said lately," he said to his toast, poking at the eggs with a fork and glancing up at his friends and Snape through his bangs. Surprisingly, it was Snape that spoke up first.

"There is no need for apologies, Mr. Potter. You would do yourself a favor by accepting the fact that all of this was beyond your control."

Of all the people to be supported by…. Harry gave a somewhat crooked smile, not sure what to do with kind words from the surly potions master. "Um, thank you." He received a nod in return and he chuckled quietly, shaking his head a little as he finally took a bite of his breakfast. The awkwardness seemed to ease a little after that, amazingly, and everyone dug into their food wholeheartedly, savoring it more for the simple fact that this was how it should be.

Conversation started innocently enough, but pretty soon, and unsurprisingly, all comments had turned to Harry's near fall into being the next dark lord. Though no one said it quite so bluntly, Harry still considered that to pretty much be the topic at hand.

Harry couldn't quite believe how close he had actually come to literally losing himself to the dark magic. It was a little weird, hearing about it from the other side, how much he'd both scared and worried them all.

How much he hadn't been himself.

It was a hard to wrap his head around, the fact that Voldemort and minions had found a way to change him from the inside out like that, even after he was gone. He shuddered a bit in revulsion just thinking about it, even as he listened to the four of them recap all they'd gone through in trying to get him back, right up to the potion that actually worked. He wondered if it would have worked without Sara's sacrifice, or if perhaps she was the main catalyst for the thing.

Pushing the 'what if's' and 'how's' from his mind, Harry told the story from his side of the whole ordeal. And his really was more of a story than theirs, because they'd had all the facts. Or at least, had gathered them over time, while Harry just had his thoughts and feelings from it all. Apparently this was worthy of complete and rapt attention from everyone present, and Harry mostly found himself telling the story to a wall over someone's shoulder, or the table in front of him rather than meeting the pity, sympathy, or even slight fear – for what was, or could have become, Harry supposed – in characteristic bashfulness.

All in all, it was a somewhat emotional dinner, and by the end of it, all Harry really wanted to do was go back to sleep. The forced unconsciousness by potion didn't count. They'd told him all they knew about Sara's unfortunate position in everything, and Harry was sorry that she'd just been another pawn of Voldemort.

"We can hold a small memorial for her later, if you like, Harry," Hermione offered, picking up on the regret in his voice when he mentioned her.

Harry gave her a small smile in return. "Yeah, that'd be great, thanks." It was the least he could do, he thought as he recalled the way she so willingly forfeited her own life for his. Yes, she definitely deserved that much at least. He cleared his throat and looked up again. "Thanks to all of you," he said with a sincere smile.

"Well we couldn't very well have you turning into the next Dark Lord," Draco said, his tone hinting at teasing. "You would've been much more difficult to deal with."

Harry laughed and rolled his eyes. "Of course, should've known you only saved me so that I wouldn't become an inconvenience."

Draco smiled back at him, and those grey eyes held his for several moments. He imagined it would take a while to stop feeling such overwhelming relief every time he realized he was free and 100 percent himself again.

He knew he would come out the other side in one piece. He always had with the help of his friends, and now he had Draco too. As if sensing his thoughts, Draco tilted his head in a silent invitation to leave the table. Somewhat relieved, Harry excused himself, as did Draco, and no one followed as they made their way into the back garden - the very one that had held the flower needed to complete the potion that finally fixed the whole mess.

After the door closed behind them, Harry felt warm fingers curl around his own, and he looked over in slight surprise. Draco could be affectionate when he wanted to be, but he didn't often reach for Harry's hand like that. He guessed Draco was working on grounding himself as much as Harry was. It was both a sobering and elating thought, for reasons he wasn't even sure of anymore.

What he was sure of was this moment, right now. He leaned into Draco, and they stayed like that for a while, not saying anything. Not needing to.

Harry knew he would probably have to talk to aurors and ministry officials and preferably not the press later, and Dumbledore and McGonagall, and he was sure the list went on. After all, they still had to find Lestrange, and any accomplices to hopefully tear down the last legs of Voldemort's forces once and for all.

"Harry...stop thinking so much; you're going to give me a headache."

Well that brought his thoughts to a grinding halt and he chuckled, not even bothering to ask how Draco knew he'd been contemplating things. He turned toward the blond and pulled him forward by their clasped hands. Draco didn't bother resisting, and finished the movement by leaning forward and kissing Harry, softly and desperately and lovingly and suggestively and yeah, thinking could come later. He could lose himself in Draco forever.

Right now this was all he wanted.

And all he needed.

* * *

I added a small sentence near the end so I could end the chapter at 7777 words. xD *Dork*

Anyway, it's finished! Finally! I'm sure most of you thought it would stay open forever. But I couldn't! Not when I was so close to the end. Even though I've kind of left the fandom...not completely, but the Star Trek fandom has sort of abducted me and it's so shiny! Dunno if I'll finish my other HP stories, but I promise I won't post them unless I finish them!

Thanks to all of you who stuck around through this, and to those of you who may have just seen this pop up in the queue because it's been so dang long. I'll go out on a limb and say Sara's death won't be taken too hard, considering how many people told me they didn't like her, lol. I'd been debating on her death since I first conceived the idea of this story, I just hadn't planned it like this. Oh well, hope you all enjoyed, and I can honestly say I'm glad it's over. I don't think there are many sequels in my future. Them and me...we don't get along so well.

Side note: can ff _seriously_ stop messing with the formatting? Every time I upload a new document, it's changed! I can't even have my own dividers now? *huffs*


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